Of Gods and Angels
by CMChalice
Summary: Out wandering the forest surrounding Nibelheim, contemplating the destruction of both the world and the abomination he must be, a dazed Sephiroth finds himself drawn to sounds of battle. Will his discovery lead to salvation, or allow his madness one final indulgence. (AH - I work to justify deviations from vanilla canon in context, but please feel free to ask for clarifications).
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: Just to get this out of the way - this story is meant for adults, and only adults. The first few chapters are fairly tame, but the story as a whole touches on darker themes, such as: violence, (allusions to) child abuse, sexytimes, naughty language, and mental illness. If that's not your thing, no worries, but you might not want to read on._

 _Italics, unless obviously used for emphasis, indicate internal thoughts/voices at present time in relation to the events of the story (since the 3rd person narrator's voice itself is in past-tense - it's what the characters were thinking to themselves and not part of the 're-telling' - if that makes sense). This first chapter is a bit of an introduction and is written in first person POV; narration will switch to third person in subsequent chapters. I do invite you to take a gander at the link in my profile for a (long-winded) breakdown of what to expect from me stylistically, if you're interested._

 _I ended up omitting lot of "pre-story" information - I'd be happy to share it with those who are interested; I made some changes in the telling that should fairly clearly illustrate what alterations I've done to the canon lore, though, and so (hopefully) that should not be as necessary._

 _Here is some text about how I'm not SquareEnix and don't own any of the characters from FFVII that also notes that the story and any original characters are mine._

 _To begin, we come in just before the worst occurs at Nibelheim._

 _If just one night had been a little different..._

* * *

-Sephiroth-

 _I'm a monster!_ I thought, staring at the creature in the tank.  
 _What...what am I?  
_ Genesis was here...he has wings! A wing...he had a wing - he told me the truth. He was my friend...thought I needed to know...that I was a monster? Why now? Why this?

Memories flashed through my head - Hojo's cruel testing...how I've always felt different...  
I needed more information, needed to know more before I could be sure. Running back to the mansion, leaving everyone behind, I sped my way to Hojo's secret library; his research was there according to Genesis. Facts, facts will make this right. There had to be a reason...some _reason!  
_ My mother? Father? Did they even exist, or was I grown in a tube as just another specimen?

His journals - the Cetra, Jenova...that was the turning point. When Hojo found out the creature wasn't an ancient...he had never been kind...but that was when the cruelty began to rot his mind.  
 _I'm a monster_ I thought again, staring fascinated at my too long, too slender hands.  
 _These were made for killing.  
_ But, no, I am SOLDIER, I work for the people; I do good and I've never even cared about the fame or glory like the other guys.  
 _Is that because I'm just a killing machine?  
_ I'm not known as humble, but...surely my motivations were more than just success and death?

 _Why didn't they tell me?  
_ When they told Angeal and Genesis - might I have left with them? ShinRa needed me...to..neutralize..my...brothers? No, not brothers. They were Hollander's work, different somehow. They're not dark, empty inside like I am. They are at least...partially human.  
I'd had my suspicions, when Hollander made the research...not public, but available to me. I had been curious, read each and every page a dozen times - there was nothing to indicate that I was like them.  
 _Because you're not like them,_ my own voice echoed deep within my brain.  
No...I wasn't. Was I worse? A monster? Or, could I be different, use these talents for something more than destruction?

Reading his notes, I began to hate Hojo even more than I thought possible. Never had I thought about just how much of my childhood was missing, my memories...blocked, taken. Whether that was by materia or trauma I did not wish to ponder.  
I'd brushed it off, not knowing any better. My whole life had been Hojo and ShinRa...but...that was not...normal. I had to stop, to get out, I did not want to remember any more. He would, he did _torture_ me! I can withstand so much pain now, that was the point...but...it had hurt so much. I felt...why was I suddenly feeling? He said I was different, but...not like this!  
 _I need air!_

Bounding up the stairs, running out to the door; that infantry boy, the one I knew as Cloud, he tried to stop me. "Sephiroth, don't...!" I could not talk, wanted nothing to do with mere humans as I ran.  
 _He'll live, at least_ ran through my mind as I restrained my sword arm, instead landing a right hook square into the blonde's jaw. _Forgive me...  
_ _You're a monster!_ \- the voice was...not my internal voice but...odd...I don't know, I needed to think.

 _Why did you restrain your sword, you were made to destroy?_ the evil that I was asked a while later as I trudged, dazed, through the forest.  
 _Was that my...mother?_ \- the question ran through my mind as I remembered the frozen beast. I was like her, a beast, a plague unto the planet.  
 _Why not get revenge, kill them all?_ it asked as I continued my trek.

"I don't know...what am I?" I whimpered to myself. Wait, I was - am - _Sephiroth_...general 1st class...what was I doing whimpering?  
"I don't know..." my own voice, sounding small and tired, answered. How could I...live? Was I even truly living now? I woke, I ate - mechanically as it was a bother to delay my training - and then worked. Missions, training, training missions...the occasional music or reading project from Hojo. Him again! He had done this...why?  
 _To help you...kill...more._

 _ **NO!**_

I did not want to be a monster. I wouldn't! I would not be like Genesis...or Angeal...terrorizing not just ShinRa, but _people_ \- useless insects that they were, there was no reason to cruelly pull their wings off. I would stay here, maybe...stay in the forest. There were other monsters...like me, out here. I could kill _them_ \- even if I am a monster, I can try...do something...something good. Eventually I'll starve, die...maybe have done something less than evil with my life. I was empty, a vessel needing a purpose - kill monsters - that would be it.

 _Kill monsters? But you're a monster?_ I thought to myself.  
"Yes...I'm a monster," I mumbled...dazed...confused. Should I...did it count...if I killed...myself?  
 _Yes.  
_ "No, something seems...that doesn't make sense. I can kill more the longer I'm alive."

Talking out loud to myself, lost...I wandered. "There's a cliff nearby...maybe if I just fell...the darkness would go away..."  
 _Yes.  
_ Not quite seeing straight I stumbled, trying to remember a map of the area. My mind was foggy...mushy...so unlike me...

"EEYYAAARHRRRRNNoOOOOooooOooo! FFFUUUUUCCcckkk...no...no..."  
 _*Crash!* *Clang!*  
_ I heard the noises, fighting...fighting monsters...like me. Maybe I could join them? Or kill them? I did not know, but felt compelled to follow the sounds. I came upon a clearing, stepping forward, but remained outside of the wan circle of torchlight that illuminated the area.

My instincts, taking control of my broken mind, prompted me to take stock of the scene. _There,_ on the ground, dead it would seem, was a great blue dragon. The grass around the creature's mouth was still frosted white, icy evidence of a failed last attempt to escape that final fate.  
 _A fierce beast; shame the civilian got involved,_ I thought, coldly, as I noted the nearby body. It was small child, blonde; probably not more than twelve. The dragon had made quick work, tearing out the intestines and puncturing the lungs with its claws.

 _But I do wonder what killed the dragon...  
_ The question popped into mind as my awareness expanded to take in the rest of the scene, noticing the second large creature rearing on the other side of the light pool. Roaring finally reached my ears and I stood, entranced, to watch the battle.

 _\- to be continued -_


	2. Chapter 2

_Author's Note: This is part two of many; I might suggest jumping back to Part One if you have not yet seen it. You may wish to read the_ _warning_ _as well - things are fairly clean in these first bit, but it gets rough down the road (violence, sexytimes, allusions to abuse, etc)._

 _Readers may notice a shift from pure first person POV to third person, but with a focus on one individual character per section. This was intentional in order to illustrate a certain mood in that first bit. Most of what follows will be in this same single-character-oriented POV, and will slide between characters from time to time; if those shifts aren't obvious, I'd like to hear - I'm not sure how much is too much when it comes to that, but do believe this works. I also wonder if the narrator's fourth wall 'breaks' are an annoyance or an addition, and welcome your thoughts. Until I hone my skills a bit, I'm not sure how else to convey certain ideas without doing that._

 _Something something I don't own Square's stuff, but do own my own lovely, and as yet unnamed, persona._

\- _We pick up right where part one left off - in the forested Nibelheim outskirts._ -

* * *

Around the black dragon raged a tempest of...something.  
 _Was that a young_ _ **female?  
**_ Sephiroth knew he should do the right thing, knew he should help; even a black dragon was no match for his skills. His terrible, terrible skills - he was terrible, he could do no good - not here nor anywhere. The man could not move, transfixed both by his own inner turmoil as well as the two creatures dancing in battle.

 _Yes,_ he decided, thinking to himself. _Creatures. No human can move that quickly...it's nearly as fast as I am._

He did not know how long he watched - dazed in a different manner than just before. In truth, only seconds had passed since his arrival. Wasted seconds, the SOLDIER realized, when the girl-ish faery-thing let out a fierce howl of raw pain and rage. The waif had barely taken a scratch through both fights from what the general could tell, but suddenly it appeared she was impaled on the dragon's claw. As Sephiroth caught the scent of blood on the air, his SOLDIER instincts - so ingrained - heightened; he _should_ help - monster or not this was an innocent. As he moved in, the feint played out, faster than even his own approach.

The dragon lifted its claw, intending to slam the girl into the ground, but she heaved herself off at the apex, ripping the claw painfully from her side and falling towards the dragon's head; Sephiroth watched the strange being plunge a pair of daggers into the lizard's skull, one for each eye. The beauty of that macabre brutality brought a smile, or perhaps just smirk, to lips that had almost forgotten how to form the shape.  
 _Fascinating..._ the thought lingered in his consciousness as the fight continued.

The blinded dragon roared, and it...she...this looked human...was she _climbing_ down the dragon? Yes, using each successful jab to create a new handhold as its too-short arms strained to pluck the faery off. Pausing at the soft spot on the dragon's throat, the girlish figure screamed back, wildly opening a large gash with a satisfied flourish.

 _Beautiful...destructive..._ the SOLDIER thought, gazing with awe upon the scene. Watching her disengage as the dragon fell, another of Sephiroth's internal questions was answered - it...the girl...it...?  
 _No, that_ _ **is**_ _a girl,_ he thought to himself, again unsure of his vision. _But what kind?  
_ The girl - she heavily favored her right leg, barely making it over to the body of the child he'd observed earlier.

The distraction of threat dealt with, Sephiroth was again losing himself to his own mind. Dazedly he watched the stranger bend to remove something from the mangled body. She made a sign and bowed her head as if to apologize, shoulders drooping, then turned to leave. As the womanlike creature moved to step, Sephiroth saw her begin to waver, then fall, losing consciousness as adrenaline faded.  
 _All that work, for nothing?_ the man asked himself, disappointed. _That's not right at all.  
_ When that jolt of realization hit, SOLDIER training finally snapped the silver general fully awake, and in a flash he moved, catching her in time to prevent further injury.

"So small...how did..." he questioned out loud, yet to himself, trying to stay in the moment and to formulate a plan. Despite fears he'd crush what life remained out of the girl - he _was_ a monster after all - the man's instinct was to press this strange creature close, against his chest. To hold the girl as he began carrying her to...?  
To where he did not know, but knowing she would need more help than the small town healers and herbalists could provide, Sephiroth began walking in the direction of the mansion. The general was both relieved and surprised when he heard a soft, musical whisper, "Haha is that you again?...Death? If I'd known it would feel this safe...I would have given up...long ago...old gods be damned..."

Those words, and the one who uttered them, seemed to cleanse the remaining fog from Sephiroth's mind.  
 _For me, two dragons would have been barely a challenge, of course. But to fight them with only daggers - no reach - and while feeling the pain of what was obviously quite an emotional loss?_ he thought to himself _...truly amazing._

Something inside the man cracked, but Sephiroth had more important concerns, choosing to ignore the strange sensation. He did not understand her comment about 'the gods'...but to welcome death so readily...after such a display? **No,** he would not be just a weapon, he _was_ capable of more than just destruction. As he thought this - and something about those thoughts felt...right - Sephiroth realized that he'd been missing a piece of himself. Realized for perhaps the first time that there was more to life than death and war, violence and loneliness. His reputation for losing partners who couldn't keep up meant solo missions only; why did this bother him now?

Pushing that question aside, the general formulated a plan. Just before taking off into a sprint, he looked down at the woman - he could see, this close, that is _was_ a woman, no more than a year or two younger than himself - and whispered "I'm sorry, but no. You will not be dying today. I will not allow it."  
Still though, that cruel part of his mind, the one that had been whispering so often lately, wondered if this wasn't just prolonging her suffering for his own benefit.

* * *

Sephiroth arrived back at the mansion - pleased to see that Cloud was awake. The blonde man appeared extremely pissed off, holding an ice pack to his head as he sat on the steps of the mansion, but that would have to wait.  
"On your feet SOLDIER!" Sephiroth barked. Looking stunned, but still a well conditioned infantryman, Cloud jumped to his feet and, seeing Sephiroth rushing towards with...something...bloody...in his arms, rushed to open the door.

"Bring water, alcohol, bandages, and my suture kit," his eyes took on a hard look, one Cloud couldn't quite read. "I'm not sure we have enough power even between us, as I'm sure you're also feeling quite drained, to handle all of... _this_. The senior SOLDIER used his free hand to motion towards the trembling mess that was resting mostly in the crook of his left arm.  
 _And what exactly is "this"?_ wondered Cloud - only to himself, for now.  
"That and I'm not stocked on curatives or supports here; stupid decision" the agitated general continued up the stairs towards the guest rooms, choosing the first that wasn't being used for storage.

The blonde cadet didn't move, blinking a few times before the severity of the situation finally sank in.  
"Sephiroth! What the fu-?! What have you done!" The shorter man had finally found the nerve to ask, to yell.  
 _He hadn't been in a good state when he'd left...but would he have done..._

Silver hair swished elegantly as the general turned, focusing a knife-like gaze on Cloud. "That was an _order_ SOLDIER! GO! NOW!" the deep voice boomed like thunder throughout the nearly empty mansion, inciting instincts in the cadet that screamed _obey!  
_ As he ran into the hall, Cloud thought, but only for a second - this being the great and notoriously cold-hearted Sephiroth - that he'd heard a sigh, followed by quiet words.  
 _"...didn't...couldn't..."_

* * *

 _What am I even doing?_ Sephiroth thought to himself, gingerly placing the girl onto a bed in one of his spare rooms. If there was one thing his reputation _didn't_ include, it was any sense of giving a damn about others. It had been a _dragon_ that mauled the tiny figure - this was futile work, surely.  
 _Futile, but necessary,_ he reasoned, removing his wristlets and black leather gloves.

The general had few, what he considered close, friends - but even then they rarely discussed topics outside of work these days. With nobody else around but the infantryman, who was gathering supplies, Sephiroth spoke quietly to himself.  
"This is just a distraction, something to keep my mind off of my own troubles, perhaps, until I've fully digested their implications. After all, it is my duty as a first class SOLDIER to protect those in need. I'll do at least this one good thing; get her fixed up and out of here, then I can deal with...myself."  
Not wanting to think further on _that_ subject, he began inspecting the worst of the wounds; the leg could wait, but that angry tear in her side needed attention - now.

Like all members of SOLDIER, Sephiroth was trained in first aid and cure materia. And, as with most things in which the man trained, he excelled in the subject. "Where is that damn infantry kid with my supplies?" he grumbled, pulling back the material of the girl's shirt while trying to preserve some semblance of modesty. He cocked his head to the side and smirked, wondering when or if he'd _ever_ cared about such things.  
Generally females bored the general - enough sloppily threw themselves his way that the whole business had eventually come to disgust him, especially after Hojo's tests...  
Again silver locks fluttered as he twinged, pushing back unwanted memories - surely he could keep a medical professional's detached air. There was no need to invite _those_ thoughts.

Sephiroth sighed with some relief when he saw the full extent of the injury up close. Though still severe, they weren't nearly as quickly fatal as he'd originally imagined. In fact, it seemed as if, at least within the scenario of being mauled by a dragon, the strike had been placed near the best possible spot to facilitate recovery and healing. Almost seemed expertly placed, as such things go. Thinking back to the battle he witnessed, a thought came occurred, "That damn crazy girl meant to get herself stabbed...couldn't jump high enough because of the leg..." In a way, he appreciated the tenacity, though part of him (despite being grateful for the distraction from his earlier discoveries) was a bit annoyed. Had she waited 5 more seconds, he would have dealt with the damn thing for her.  
Something about that thought bothered the man, but before he could ponder it further, Cloud arrived with the supplies.

"The injuries aren't as severe as I'd initially presumed, and I should be able to handle things on my own," Sephiroth said as he began cleaning the gash in the girl's side. "That said, even with the restore materia, she's going to be in pain when she wakes up."  
 _More than physical at that,_ he thought, immediately wiping the idea from his mind. The SOLDIER was bothered by this empathetic intrusion, which was not at all normal for him.

Sephiroth handed an amount of gil to Cloud and instructed, "You're from here and should know your way around, yes? Go find something to treat the pain when she wakes. And..." he added a bit more gil to the stack in Cloud's hand, "she will need new clothing. Looks like a small should fit...probably not a fan of skirts."

The infantryman was still confused, and a part of him wasn't sure he should leave his friend alone with the girl.

"Clothing, sir?" Cloud looked less than comfortable at the thought of buying clothes for this strange woman, or _any_ woman most likely. This amused Sephiroth, who added "Yes. Over _and_ under, soldier," with a bemused smirk which he quickly changed to a serious glare, not wanting the other man to think him joking in _any_ sense. The last thing he needed was an unclothed woman running around the place, and this one's garments were most definitely ruined. Sephiroth held a steel gaze on the other man until, with a curse, quickly followed by "yes, general, sir" Cloud turned and headed for the door.

 _If it was him, and he meant to finish the job...why would he have come back? He almost seemed...concerned.  
_ The question and half answer satisfied Cloud well enough for the time being.  
 _Not much can be done when it comes to Sephiroth..._ the young blonde sighed to himself, locking the mansion door and jogging towards the town's center.

"Now, to work," the general continued to clean the girl's injuries. After a closer look at the leg wound - most definitely a fracture - he couldn't help but further admire that last desperate trick. Just the same, it was for the best that she'd fallen unconscious quickly after; adrenaline can only keep pain at bay for so long.  
 _Still stupid,_ he sighed, wishing his reactions had been faster; wishing he had not been so lost to his own internal battle...wishing he'd done _anything_ to actually help.  
Guilt was another new sensation for the general to contend with.

It was only after he'd finished healing the last of the smaller lacerations that Sephiroth perceived another oddity - the girl had scars. Not just battle scars here and there - things she likely couldn't afford to get properly handled at a materia clinic - but...others. Others that seemed more...deliberate; scars that reminded him of...  
At the realization that he was becoming quite angry, Sephiroth pushed the memories away. No use jumping to conclusions now. Surely as repayment for his efforts, the woman would afford him some answers.  
 _Desperate for someone to understand, eh? To be as fucked up as you? Fantasy! You're pathetic.  
_ He pursed his lips at the intrusion - these not-his-thoughts, at least he _thought_ not his, were becoming more common - the general did not understand the recent change in his mental state.  
Did not understand, and certainly did not appreciate.

As a distraction, he pulled one of the girl's daggers from its sheathe, slowly turning it over in his hand to examine the weapon. "Not the best I've ever seen, but good steel.. Well taken care of," he mused to himself, "the girl knows her steel. Unless..." an unpleasant possibility crossed his mind. What if this was some bandit, and the daggers freshly stolen, rather than carefully chosen and cared for? His initial assessment deemed this unlikely, but just the same he slid the other dagger from its place and moved both to a nearby drawer.  
 _Nobody would take that tiny thing seriously in a robbery,_ he thought to himself, only slightly relaxing.

With the immediate situation handled, he turned his mind to the next problem - having more questions than answers was _not_ a state SOLDIER 1st class General Sephiroth enjoyed. Choosing a chair in the corner of the room, after all this woman was an unknown and he did own some very expensive things, Sephiroth began his watch. Bandit or not she may be tempted to do something stupid, depending on what circumstances led her so deep into that forest. The man sat, perfectly still, and pondered, staring more _through_ his strange guest than at her. Or so he convinced himself, at least.

Sephiroth hadn't found any answers by the time Cloud arrived with the clothing and medicine. Situation finally calm, the blonde man broached the subject a second time. "So...umm...Sephiroth...sir...you were pretty disturbed when you left, and after you punched me...I mean, not that I'm saying you _would,_ and I'd understand...but...I'm just asking, as a friend...did _you_...ummmm..."

Moving his silver-maned head only enough to make eye contact, and despite being thrown by the word 'friend,' Sephiroth coolly interrupted, "Dragon attack. And yes, it was not befitting of my station to have laid hands upon you, no matter my mood - that will not happen again."

 _That was almost an apology...from general Sephiroth!_ Cloud thought, excited, then suddenly feeling childish.  
 _He must be trying to change the subject.  
_ Cloud would not let that happen. "Dragon attack! You say that like it's your average Tuesday night special - what happened after you left?"  
 _Tuesday night special?_ the short blonde thought... _Going to have to work on my metaphors.  
_ "Sephiroth - come on, you can tell me, whatever it is. We're...well we could be friends, right? I heard what Genesis said too, you know. You shouldn't have to deal with all of that alone..."

Sephiroth found himself staring at - no, _through,_ he told himself - the tiny figure on the bed...again. He'd heard Cloud's question, but was not comfortable with the answers that came to mind. Instead of saying 'she saved my life' or 'I'm not sure I've ever had a real friend, not anymore, why start now?' the general decided a simple recounting of the events would suffice. As he was already leaving some parts out with regards to himself, the man supposed he should give the girl some privacy as well, until he learned where she'd picked up _that_ fighting style.  
 _Yes, distract him with facts, satisfy his curiosity, and them maybe he'll leave me the hell alone.  
_ _To do what, stare creepily at the half naked woman?  
_ _No, to monitor our injured guest's vitals.  
_ Again the conversational nature of his internal monologue troubled the silver SOLDIER, but it was not worth addressing now; not with his other problems.

To the general, the plan sounded clever in his mind, a large part of which was still pondering the events of the night...of his life...  
So when "I told you - dragons; one blue and one black. The child was already dead," _*shrug*_ "I did my duty as a SOLDIER. Caught the woman before she could fall and further sustain injury...heh, she killed the black too..." was all he managed to say, the man felt a twinge of annoyance. Sephiroth was _not_ one of simple mind nor of simple words.  
 _Just distracted,_ he thought to himself, _it was a...difficult day._

Cloud, though, was infuriated, "You mean for me to believe that _that_...that little waif killed .dragons - one of them a black! Gaia man! Dead kid?! What?! Listen, I know you took the...that today was difficult for you, but if you needed to take out some aggression then..."

The cadet found himself pressed - slammed - against the wall, feet hovering above the floor, with his commander's left hand dangerously tight around his neck. The generally calm and cool demeanor of the silver haired general had all but evaporated, his piercing bluegreen eyes as hard as steel and as cold as ice - an image only accentuated by the mako induced glow and strangely shaped pupil slits. Sephiroth's rage was almost palpable - nearly visible as dark waves emanating from his body...which made the low growl of his voice that much more terrifying to the smaller man. "Do. Not. Ever. Speak to me. Like that. Again. You know nothing, cadet."

* * *

Sephiroth found himself on the verge of shaking with rage. His whole life he'd been known for his cool demeanor and self-control; that he'd lost his temper over _this_ made the man even angrier.  
 _What is happening to me?_ he wondered.  
Despite the inner doubt (not a pair of words he was fond of), Sephiroth did not remove his hand from Cloud. He wanted to run the little idiot through, maybe throw him out the window. Friends? How _dare_ he make such accusations! Sephiroth was not a monster...  
But the thoughts from just before the rescue pounded in his head...was he a monster? The boy looked terrified, couldn't breathe...because of _him._

Softening his gaze, but not enough to endanger the message, the addled general released Cloud. Well, dropped may have been a more accurate word. Much to Sephiroth's relief, and before the other man could interrogate him further...or question his peculiar reaction to the accusation, their strange guest began to move.  
 _Awake so soon?_ he thought, again intrigued and thankful for the distraction.

The silver haired man found himself unable to turn away from the slight figure as it stirred, or was that twitched, on the bed. "Cloud," Sephiroth said in a measured tone - one that indicated arguing would not be tolerated, "our guest will be quite thirsty after her ordeal, please fetch a glass of water, as well as the medicine and clothing you purchased earlier."

Cloud stared daggers into the back of the other man's head, but thought better of questioning his intentions - what the general wants, the general gets. No matter what, it would seem.  
 _Why does he just stand there, staring like that? What happened? Is he...afraid?  
_ As he walked past the older man, though, Cloud wondered if he'd misjudged the situation. Did the silent figure standing here actually care that this woman lived? He seemed to be holding his breath, and there was a sadness in his sort-of-friend's eyes that Cloud...well any other day he'd think it a hallucination.  
Besides, the general _had_ put forth the effort to heal, stitch, and even try to re-clothe the woman. Though he did not think Sephiroth heartless, such generosity was...well...unusual would be an understatement. Mind somewhat eased, the cadet continued out to gather the items.

 _\- Until next time, then -_


	3. Chapter 3

_Notes from the author: Finally, we get to meet the main OC character! There's a bit more viewpoint swapping here than in previous installments, but I think it works well. The horizontal breaks between each shift, rather than each 'section' (as I've arbitrarily defined them), are a last minute addition - hopefully to help make those switches a bit more clear. I'm concerned they get a bit excessive, though. Opinions always welcome._

 _This is part three of a series, and I might suggest visiting Part One first (followed by part two, of course)._

 _Legal-type stuff: This story gets a bit dark; we're not too bad yet but I'd hate to get you hooked, then throw in things that are difficult to handle. Along the course we might hit (or allude to) violence, child abuse, naughty language, sexytimes, and mental illness._

 _Additionally, my characters are mine and Square's are Square's. I respect the creators' copyrights, but not so much the concept itself, at least as we've implemented it in the US (though I do my best to abide)._

 _\- Picking up where we left off, the unknown female begins to stir -_

* * *

 _Something feels...no, not wrong. Possibly the opposite, which is even more terrifying.  
_ _I am...I'm dead?  
_ _Okay Kilara, think. Remember.  
_ _There were dragons...two of them - why were there two?  
_ _Wait, that's not the important question. Fuck, there were dragons!  
_ _Emile!  
_ _She was...no, fuck fuck I hadn't seen the blue...it...noNONOO!  
_ _I'll kill them all for what they've done!  
_ _Wait, where am I, where am I now...there was a...it was soft, so soft and I felt...safe?  
_ _An angel? No.  
_ _Safe means danger, you let your guard down when you feel safe...safe is bad.  
_ _Angels aren't real anymore.  
_ _Oh, what does it matter? You couldn't protect Emile, couldn't protect the others before...maybe it's best if you_ are _dead.  
_ _But...I don't feel dead? I don't feel great, but...shouldn't dead feel like nothing? If death is a pounding headache then...what's that?  
_ _Voices?_

The voices were close, pulling Kilara just awake enough to freeze - a quick glance to the side showed two men. Well, she wasn't entirely sure about the tall one, but men tend to be more dangerous, so she decided to assume the worst and hope for a pleasant surprise. She would need a plan, quickly.  
 _One...can feel my legs...good.  
_ _Two...can feel my hands...  
_ _Three..._

Kilara bolted out of the bed, extremely relieved to find her clothing still on...well as on as could be expected given the damage.  
And it was good that she also felt the knife belt, a comforting weight around her hips. As the girl flipped off of the bed, side opposite the men, she halted again - partly because her daggers weren't there, and partly because of what she saw in the tall one's eyes.  
Kilara made a mental note - the other male was no longer in sight.  
The silver-maned stranger looked almost as surprised as she was, though he was hiding it well. But...that glow...not quite round pupils...so deeply green...

"No...no...nonono not going back, no not going back...never," she couldn't help but chant, finding it difficult to continue her appraisal with such familiar, luminous spheres so intently focused on her. The girl didn't sense any immediate danger, but...  
 _Nobody else has eyes like that, they're going to take you,_ and though his gaze was intent - _**run**_ \- it wasn't menacing or lecherous...  
 _Run where? How? Breathe!_

Pain began to seep into her consciousness and, against every internal scream and plea, she decided to wait and see what he would do. She was trapped, for now.  
 _I can escape again...just need patience,_ she thought, disgusted by her own current weakness. Fatigue, pain, and other weights were advancing quickly as the last of Kilara's adrenaline began to fade. Knowing too well the dangers of appearing weak, though, the girl held her stance and met the stranger's stare with her own that screamed **stay back.**

* * *

 _Mako? But how..._ Sephiroth wondered, eyes locked on the violet circles glowing so much like his own. He'd seen her fight, but still, _this_ was unexpected. _This_ was interesting. Yes, this one would definitely owe some answers. The general hadn't yet decided if he was returning to ShinRa, but had been leaning away from the idea. Evidence of an underground Mako infusion ring would be a nice parting gift. Perhaps they'd allow the SOLDIER to retire after all.

 _No,_ he thought, _this is not the reaction I'd expect from from someone involved is that sort of business...hmmm..._ The girl had froze for a moment, terrified, but now stared him down with a look of defiance.  
Sephiroth wasn't quite sure if that fear was due to her missing daggers or his eyes' own, matching glow.  
 _What had she been whispering? No? Lots of no...go back where, I wonder?_ the general contemplated.

Shelving that thought for now, he noted (and, admittedly, appreciated - from a tactical standpoint) that the girl used his pause to quickly continue her assessment of the situation. After a moment it - _no, **she** ,_ he chastised himself - wasn't relaxing but had loosened a bit, likely waiting for him to make the first move. The woman looked to be in pain. Of course, he knew she would be.  
 _Impressive..._

 _Now, what should that first move entail?_ the general thought to himself. _Don't want to spook her.  
_ He opted for a direct approach...pepper the interrogation with honesty, perhaps? This was an unusual method, but one his instincts strongly favoured, and those instincts were seldom wrong. "Go back where? You have my assurance, nobody is going anywhere they do not wish to go."  
 _For now, and especially when it comes to ShinRa..._ he thought, still considering her overall innocence or guilt; his own as well. _Should_ his last act as general be ensuring the torture, and most likely execution, of such a young woman? "We are not going to harm you - you were badly injured. Do you remember fighting, in the forest?" Sephiroth surprised himself when he noted the softness of his own voice, puzzled as the pair continued to assess each other.

* * *

Outside the room, Cloud, who had not seen the girls reaction firsthand, nearly fell over laughing at the tone of his commander's voice - what was this, his pet kitten? _Again with the metaphors,_ he cringed internally, unsure whether to smile or worry further.  
The infantryman opted to remain out of sight, to listen, observe, and learn. He wasn't quite convinced that his silver haired accomplice wasn't somehow responsible for this girl's injuries, but it was the strangest fetish the blonde had ever heard of if he was.

* * *

Despite the surprising tone, if the woman was calmed she did well to hide it. Sephiroth noted a twinge; the adrenaline was wearing off. Things would be quite painful for her soon - a thought that annoyed him...for some curious reason.  
 _Probably because it will mean more time until I have answers,_ the general reasoned to himself. Not that he needed to justify anything, of course. Slowly, the man extended a hand towards the diminutive creature; dangling from it was the necklace she'd removed from the corpse.  
 _Emile was it?  
_ "You dropped this," he said quietly. Had he not trained for years to never, ever, take his eyes off a potential threat, the man might have dropped his gaze to escape the uncomfortable scene.

At his whispered words, the girl faltered, falling to her knees by the bed. Sephiroth had to repress the urge to catch the female again, lest it frighten her and make things worse. He was considering his next move when the woman spoke quietly; she had a staccato, musical voice, "It was you...but...you are not death...are you...an angel...tell us...did we...fly again?" Something constricted in the general's chest at those pitiful, choked words - whether it was pain, pity, or something else he couldn't be sure, nor was he certain he wanted to know.  
 _No, I'm no angel,_ Sephiroth thought, working to keep a level expression at remembering, again, exactly _what_ he was.

The medic in him could see the girl's physical pain worsening, and felt a need to deal with the situation quickly, also wanting to avoid further...feelings of his own. Taking a gamble, Sephiroth walked slowly to the woman, kneeling nearby so as to not tower over her menacingly, as someone of his height was wont to do. "I'm...sorry that I wasn't there early enough to save your..." he trailed off, wondering what the relationship might have been? She looked far too young for a child that age to have been her daughter. The dead girl was tan, blonde...this live one was pale - pale even without blood loss most likely, and her hair was dark...black with a hint of indigo or purple, but only when the light shone just right. They were not likely sisters.  
 _Hmmmm,_ he would think on this later, if boredom struck. _I don't care, this is about the puzzle,_ he told himself.

His guest smiled at the sentiment, but grimaced at the words themselves, balling her hands into small, angry fists. "Emile had been...she was...she was stupid is what she was!" - words Sephiroth did not expect, and words he could tell the woman might have wanted to believe, but didn't. "She just...started following me one day, said...doesn't matter. She was wrong...I felt bad for the kid...the slums is not a nice place for a young girl so, sure. I'd told her...safety in numbers." the woman faltered again, nails cutting into her palms as tears threatened. "I'd told her to stay inside, but she wouldn't listen... .girl." And then screamed into the bed as she slammed her face to the mattress - not just at the death, Sephiroth thought - the woman was obviously in an amount of physical pain. Cure materia was very useful, but it was _not_ a magical elixir. There would be a recovery period as her body adjusted to the rapid change in states. Bone, tendon...maybe organ regrowth - there was a price to be paid.

 _One more gamble then,_ the general decided, reaching towards the small figure in front of him, hesitant. She stiffened when his hand stopped to rest upon her shoulder, but didn't attempt to injure him, which was a pleasant surprise. The next words felt strange in Sephiroth's throat, as if something like him was not meant to speak them. "Listen, I didn't go through all the trouble of fixing you up just to hurt you again. You don't have to worry. My...my friend, who is also not going to hurt you, left to get some medicine...for the pain. He should be back any minute. Please...please you need to lie down and drink some water - that should help the headache..." he considered something. "Your daggers are just here in the nightstand, would you feel better to have them back?" Even as he said the words, Sephiroth wondered what had gotten into him; the general was not known for being soft or especially kind. But, he was also not known to misjudge situations, and this was becoming a _situation._

* * *

Kilara gave a small nod. She told herself that she could fight if she needed to, if she absolutely had to. But, the man was giving her weapons back...if it was a trick, then what?  
 _What kind of trick would that be? Hey I saw you kill two giant fucking lizards, but figured I'd give you these sharp pointy things before trying to rape you - ridiculous...head...hurts...can't think...  
_ She admitted she had little choice but to agree to lie down in the bed...stopping first to grab one of the daggers from the drawer.

* * *

 _Seph - he is...smiling...actually smiling!_ Cloud thought, a bit confused as he finally entered the room. Sephiroth turned to him, face unreadable and hand extended. _Was he...tucking the girl in?_ Cloud wondered.  
The general's demeanor was curt, professional - any trace of that gentle look the blonde might have thought he'd seen was quickly erased. "About time soldier - water an medicines stat."  
"Yes sir."  
 _Best not to push that train of thought...I'm just...I hope there really were dragons,_ the younger man worried to himself, handing over the items.

* * *

 _This...this...angel - I'd swear I saw a wing, there had to be two if there was one - he pulled me back from the edge of death...but...why?_ Kilara thought to herself, concentrating on the pain, on pushing it away. _Stupid girl, always trying to die, it seems,_ she chided internally, recalling more details of the earlier fight.

The blonde kid had given the pretty man a bag and a bottle of water, the latter of which now sat on the night stand. Her angel seemed to consider for a moment, then knelt down so that his head was level with Kilara's. "Here," he said voice that was so deep, yet somehow...comforting...velvety. "The seal is intact on this bottle, and the medication is unopened. I can open it for you, but if you don't trust us, I'll just leave it here and you can decide." The girl was thrown, surprised by this gesture.  
 _Kind angel...can I...trust you?_ Kilara wanted to, desperately; loneliness had always been her weakness. It was always a hard lesson when she chose to cling to the wrong thing.

* * *

His patient gingerly began sitting up. _Good, she intends to cooperate,_ Sephiroth thought to himself, _that or I'm about to lose an eye._ He tried to nonchalantly keep said eye on her right hand, which loosely gripped a dagger under the sheets. As the woman was moving, he heard her speak, "What...err...Thank you...for...helping."  
Sephiroth's eyebrows furrowed, _Why does she look...embarrassed? Her skills were impressive.  
_ "May I ask your name sir?"  
 _Exceptional manners for a slums girl...I would like to know more, yes.  
_ _Heh heh...know? Right...  
_ Pushing the intrusion aside, Sephiroth concentrated on the ideal method for introducing himself and the infantryman. It would be best to ignore the topic of ShinRa for now.

"My name is Sephiroth, and the other man is my...yes my friend, Cloud." He waited for her to finish swallowing the painkillers, along with the entire bottle of water. At that he made a motion to his friend, indicating he should go fetch more. "Is there something we can call you?" Sephiroth forced himself to not adopt the intense stare that usually got him answers, instead moving to fetch a nearby blanket to offer the convalescing woman.

To her credit, in the general's eyes, the girl waited until he'd returned to face her, and she held his gaze while answering.  
 _She wants me to know she's cooperating of her own will, trying to be the dominant one here...interesting tactic...  
_ _Sure it's her_ tactics _that interest you.  
_ _How dare...wait...what is this? Shut up!  
_ Silver strands fluttered as their owner tried to nonchalantly shake the invasive other thoughts from his mind. He would not admit to himself that their frequency was increasing.  
 _Don't go soft on me now, c'mon. Honestly though, her_ tactics _are a bit small for my tastes heh heh.  
_ Angered by the words of what must have been his own tired subconscious, the general walled off the darkening thoughts and turned his regard back on the girl, who had been waiting patiently for his attention to return.

Oh what a great distraction! Sephiroth knew he would need to pay attention to this one. Very few people could read him so well, and most would have continued the conversation, despite the slight...what was that? A slip into his own head?  
"Kilara, sir."  
"Kilara..." he rolled the name around on his tongue for a moment. "It is nice to meet you, Kilara."  
It looked like she wanted to say more; he urged her on with a small nod.

 _That medicine must work quickly,_ the general thought to himself as the flood of words poured rapidly the woman, and as the general wondered if he'd misjudged her strategy moments ago.  
"Umm...nice to meet you too, I suppose...I mean, no I _am_ grateful for your help. Though a little bit of me was relieved to die, it's good that I didn't I guess. Sure, why not? But...sir, I don't have any...I mean...I can't pay you for any of this. You've been too kind already and, I don't know...I have some skills, I can fight and guard and I do cook and sew, though not very well - just enough to keep clothing a bit longer...but if you need repairs...  
And...I don't...just...please don't make me have sex with you and or your friend or I don't know. I won't let you touch me and I can fight and dammit I'll win or die oh gods I'm so sorry I'm not saying that I think you're perverts or anything but...people are...they're people and that's why we left the slums...the forest had more creatures but...less dangers, or it seemed that way...just please I'll do good honest work to pay you back anything please...well you know anything but..." Sephiroth was extremely amused, watching the girl - babbling and brandishing a very sharp blade in one hand, partially covering her face with the other...never completely obstructing her own vision with either.

 _Huh...is this what...cute is? Either way, I was_ _ **not**_ _expecting this reaction...and the infantry kid just came back in...I swear if he makes one more accusation,_ the general chuckled to himself, smirking. To the smaller man's credit, he stayed silent. Was he smirking as well?  
Sephiroth was...amused by the girl's change from brave warrior to babbling beggar. Then he felt a bit...was that sad? He wasn't sure he'd ever felt that particular...thing...before, not for another person. Surely this was fatigue and nothing else.  
 _Seriously? Dragons - no problem. A little hospitality and you become a broken mess?  
_ Even more thoughts and questions, ones the calculating fighter wished to avoid, prodded the outskirts of the warrior's mind. As usual, he did his best to ignore them for the time being, chiding himself on the use of the word 'broken' - that word did not seem correct.

Before she could continue digging herself into the verbal hole, he gave a polite cough. Kilara took the hint, looking quite embarrassed.  
"Those painkillers must be something..." Sephiroth mused, usually not one to offer an easy out. "Anyway, no Kilara - you don't owe either of us anything and you don't have to do anything to pay myself or Cloud back. I...I'm...it was the right thing to do...to assist," he settled on those words, not waning to touch on his own problems or his reasons for being so far out in the wilderness.

The general paused for a moment, accentuating the point with what he hoped wasn't too hard of a look - but the girl needed to know he was serious - then continued.

"You don't _have_ to do anything, but if you feel the need to provide some sort of compensation...I do have some questions I'd like to ask you about," he made a circular motion with his hands, their eyes at the center of the shape, "all of this and the events of this evening. How you came to be...in that clearing, winning a fight against two...large and monstrous creatures." For unknown, or at least uncomfortable reasons, Sephiroth winced at the word monstrous. "Tomorrow, after you've had a good rest and a decent breakfast...if you don't mind. Is that agreeable?" He intended to prod more into her backstory than the words indicated, but trusted his instinct to keep away from the subject until situations were less precarious.

Kilara seemed back to her wary self, taking a moment to further study the two men and the room they occupied.  
 _Likely calculating escape vectors,_ the man speculated, watching her eyes dart to and fro.  
 _One does wonder..._ thought the general as he pondered. _No...no if there had been a female SOLDIER of this caliber I'd have certainly been aware. Even if she was a deserter. More goddamned questions!_

* * *

 _Okay, got some strength back - plan time,_ Kilara thought as she moved back to hold the tall man's gaze. Attempting to override any indications of weakness from the previous outburst, she allowed...forced...the smallest curl to touch her lips and the slightest glean to grace her glowing irises. _That should throw them just enough..._ she thought, _the crazy angle always works,_ taking the split second to properly assess the young men. She hadn't the energy previously.

 _Hmm...the pretty one's a hard read - what was...no there's no way he felt that...trick of the light it has to be. The other one seems genuine enough, to the point that he'd be displeased should his friend forget his manners...and I could use the rest.  
_ Kilara allowed the smile to soften and complete before asking her one, last important question.

* * *

 _Fuck she's crazy!_ Sephiroth realized, seeing Kilara's lip curl into the type of half smile that can only mean dangerous. At that moment he thought he felt...something...it was difficult to put into words. The type of shiver, something a light caress down his spine might elicit, threatened the general's cool facade. With effort, as his instincts screamed _don't react,_ the man stood strong. Just as quickly, he saw the girl's look fade from crazy to agreeable...maybe with a touch of concern?  
 _Just a trick of the light...and who am I to speak of sanity right now?_ he assured himself. The whole episode had taken less than a second.

Looking over to Cloud, the elite soldier saw no indication his cadet had noticed anything unusual. He didn't expect the kid to cover well if he had, especially something like _that._ But would he have expected that level of perception in the first place? Sephiroth filed yet another scene away in his mind for later dissection, simultaneously looking back to Kilara, who was starting to speak.

"Well, I do truly appreciate the kindness you've shown - truly an astonishing find these days," Kilara's tone - her whole demeanor - had shifted slightly and all traces of the scowl she'd worn all night vanished, though she wasn't quite smiling either. Sephiroth got the feeling she'd made her decision and wasn't going to consider further, confident (or needing to seem so) despite lingering internal objections. That or the girl really was batshit fucking crazy.

She continued, "I do suppose I could use the rest. You are correct in that I'd hate to have your efforts wasted." The woman moved, slowly, to stand - dagger sheathed, but still worn, Sephiroth noticed. "It would be rude of me to go snooping through this lovely building in the late hours - if you would be so kind as to direct me to the powder room. I'd like to take a moment to clean up before retiring for the rest of the evening."

Cloud was startled by the change, and seemed lost in his own head. So Sephiroth again took the lead, intrigued by the shift in speech.  
 _You didn't grow up in the slums at all, did you? Oh, I believe you lived there...but where else is it that would you have become so well spoken?_ Not a question he intended to pursue this evening...and yet another to add to the list. Just the distraction he needed...

Sephiroth lifted the other bag cloud had brought and placed it on the foot of the bed, "Clothing - my associate may not be in tune with the latest fashion trends, but I believe this will be superior to your current options. No arguments, no cost - this is a matter of decency." He allowed himself a smirk in Cloud's direction as the younger man's face reddened and his gaze raced to the floor.  
 _Hmm...a bit thin...but those eyes are...NO!, nope, not lingering on that thought!  
_ The silver haired man turned his attention back to the cadet.  
 _You'd think the kid has never seen a woman._

 _Come to think of it,_ Sephiroth's mind began to wander again as his guest gingerly inspected the clothing, _I'm not sure I have either...not like that. And, not at all since the days of...bah doesn't matter now._ Determined to keep thoughts of the doctor and his experiments buried deep, Sephiroth forced his focus to the present.

He moved partially into the hallway, pointing.  
"Out you door to the left, first door on the right. It's a guest facility so please feel welcome to using any of the linens and other stock." The general was about to provide directions to his bedroom - just in case of emergency or injury, of course, but thought better of it.  
 _No need risking the progress we've made so far,_ he thought. _Don't want to scare her away while still recovering...or before I can solve this puzzle.  
_ Instead he directed, "Should you require anything please give a holler, shout even - the house is large, but sound carries well." With that, Sephiroth smiled - a surprisingly genuine action - and turned from the room, stopping just outside to call to Cloud, "Let's give the lady some privacy."

Kilara seemed to understand the hidden message: _if you do anything, we'll hear; if you do need help, at least one of us will hear.  
_ "All of my appreciation sirs," the girl gave a small bow, "good night to you both. Thank you." She gave each man a nod, eyes lingering on the emerald traps that were of Sephiroth's irises, and then began to walk...'glide' would be a close descriptor in the tall man's mind...down the hall.  
 _Nope...never one like that..._ he mused quietly to himself and ignoring the chuckles that seemed to originate from an unfamiliar part of his psyche.

 _\- I wonder what the night will bring... -_


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: When I realized this chapter was uncharacteristically short - barely 2,000 words - I panicked. I edited, fiercely. And, wow, it's amazing how many story/foreshadowing/character building opportunities were almost wasted! I had to be careful, not wanting to lose the overall tone and concept to edits, but I think I pulled it off!_

 _I'd also like to thank the folks who've left reviews - I hadn't realized **just how much** I'd appreciate that!  
And please don't worry, I've no intention of abandoning this story! (And I finally got an AO3 invite, so if you prefer their interface, this can be found under the same user/title there now.)_

 _So, with their guest settled, our two ShinRa warriors discuss their strategy._

* * *

 _\- The men retreat, down the stairs, returning to the mansion's first floor... -_

Without another word exchanged, both men veered towards the kitchen.  
"Coffee, sir?"  
Sephiroth hummed agreement, withdrawn and noticeably preoccupied.  
Almost as an afterthought, he mutely directed the lower-ranked blonde - nodding to indicate a dry goods pantry - before returning to the open foyer.

With a shrug - Cloud hadn't made coffee in _years_ thanks to the vending machines at work - he gathered the appropriate tools and worked to imitate the steps his mom had demonstrated, every morning for weeks, before he'd set off to become a man.  
 _Grounds here, yes. Water...here, yes. Hmmm...ah! Stove time! Now, all we have to do is wait. I'll go check on...err...inform...Sephiroth._

The general was interested in something...something invisible beyond the room's opulent bay windows. Cloud tried to catch a glimpse, but saw only darkness and stars; the latter appearing much more prominent in his hometown sky than they ever would in Midgar's.  
 _Must be the SOLDIER enhancements..._ he reasoned, quietly studying the figure who stood motionless, attention lost to the shadows.  
 _He's so quiet...but not like...not like calm quiet. What could make_ _ **him**_ _nervous?_ _ **Is**_ _that nervous?  
_ Uneasily, wondering if he'd witnessed a quiver, or if maybe Sephiroth just shook his head to clear it, the interim barista resumed preparations. Sephiroth could handle **anything** ; it would be silly to worry.

Back at the stove, silently urging the equipment onward - _Come on...umm...percolate or something, stupid percolator!_ \- Cloud couldn't help but glance up from the device, back again to his ( _hopefully)_ friend.  
 _Lost in your own head again already,_ he frowned, noting the general's dour expression and feeling just a bit unnerved by the (normally) reserved man's earlier displays of emotion.

The cadet _did_ believe Sephiroth was human - or close enough to count, in his mind - and he _did_ think it might be healthy for the troubled SOLDIER to express himself; but it was just so...weird...to see in person.  
 _Near smiles, throwing punches, constantly lost in thought, then that outburst of anger in the guestroom...  
_ Recalling that choked feeling of terror, and those serpentine pupils - constricted into tight, vertical slits - was definitely fuel for nightmares. Cloud shook the memory away.  
Did the general really plan to just, pretend nothing happened, or that he wasn't affected?  
 _Guess I'll try to break the ice...get his mind off the reactor, maybe?  
_ The blonde cringed inwardly, worried he might risk their budding rapport.

"So...?" An open question, drawn out in tentative tones, might lead Sephiroth to vent without feeling too exposed. The teen had chosen a good tactic, but Cloud's voice echoed uncertainly, and his invitation was ignored.  
 _Come on...what do **you** need to talk about? You could make __**new**_ _friends, feel better, if you'd just..._ _ **open up!**_

"So what?" The general's impassive response, unreadable expression, and refusal to accept his own feelings was not unusual itself. But, after storming out - after **striking** a fellow civil servant - surely the man had something to get off his chest.  
 _Right?  
_ "As I explained earlier, words the woman did not refute, dragons."  
 _Right...?_

"Yeah but..." Cloud was flustered, uneasy, and quickly losing confidence in the scheme.  
 _Maybe I_ _ **should**_ _just leave him alone, but...of all the day's events to mention...  
_ "I mean...at first I was afraid you'd...but now I swear you want to f- ..."  
 _*sigh*  
_ "...yaknow, what I think doesn't really matter." A deep breath calmed the blonde's anxiety, but did little for his deeper concerns. "How about this - are _you_ OK? The things Genesis said...his wi- his _wing_...you looked ready to..." trailing off, Cloud realized just how badly things _could_ have gone. It's not as if the cadet, who didn't even make third class _reserves_ , would have been able to slow - let alone stop - Sephiroth if he snapped.

Hell, the boy could barely keep a neutral expression as possibilities ran through his mind, vivid and horrifying.  
 _He'd set the world on fire...easily...  
_ The taller man arched an eyebrow, as if entertained by those same thoughts, before letting out a tired sigh. "I am fine, but I will not be returning to Midgar with you tomorrow. I am going take a much needed vacation. Going to take some time...to think."

* * *

Sephiroth had _never_ taken a vacation; ShinRa, SOLDIER, war, they had been his life - his _entire_ life. His _only_ life. The need for leisure was a weakness from which _he_ had never suffered.  
Or was that a luxury he'd never deserved?  
 _Killing machine.  
_ The man could not argue, and thought it best to ignore the intrusion. Again.

Well trained in psychology, and an expert when it came to reading others, the SOLDIER sought to dissect his unusual condition; discovering its nature was the first step towards correction.  
 _Hmmm...This cannot be simple materia; the effects would be lessening, not increasing, with time. True, and I feel no traces of such 'magic' - perhaps a toxin? No, I should be able to identify even the most subtle foreign substance within my body, and the symptoms make little sense.  
_ That the malady's origins could be internal, rooted within _him_ , did not cross the young man's mind. He was, of course, perfectly sane.

 _So,_ _ **that**_ _puzzle will not likely be solved tonight, what about the other questions?  
_ _OOHH! The ones where you get revenge for being turned into a freak? Can fire be a question?  
_ _No. But I_ _ **do**_ _intend to find out if it was ShinRa, as a whole, who lied to me...or if it was only_ _ **him**_ _, deceiving all of us. Even those who knew what I'd discover...what were they expecting? Surely the entire planet is not conspiring against me?  
_ _And if it is? Don't tell me you plan to roll over and take it like a woman? Blades. Sharpen. Punish. You_ _ **know**_ _this wasn't some checkbox on a form, or simple mistake along the line. C'mon, whip out that sword!  
_ "Shut up," the man growled, smooth leather gliding among silver threads, brushing back the wayward strands. His hair was never, ever, out of place!  
Swaying, desperate to quiet the demon in his skull, Sephiroth inhaled deeply.  
 _Fuck. Him._

The statement echoed twofold in the tired man's mind; Cloud stood nearby - gawking - but the boy seemed no less eager than Sephiroth himself to forget about his...lapse.  
 _Lucky.  
_ "Seph...err...General, sir?"  
 _Yet another of reverie cut short, yet another voice to indulge. Haven't you had enough?  
_ _At least I know the source of this one. What had he been asking?_

"Hm. Yes?" Turning slightly towards the sound, a preoccupied Sephiroth nearly overlooked his associate's troubled expression. The kid had quick reflexes, but almost no sense of facial control.  
 _So I_ _ **did**_ _say that out loud... No matter, there is no going backwards; we must move on. Gaia...how long had I been...?  
_ That question, along with the others, would have to wait - there was official paperwork to handle.  
Paperwork, a simple, mindless task under most circumstances; one that normally would provide little distraction. But for _this?_ Sephiroth knew he'd have to maximize focus if they were to conjure a report that both appeased Lazard professionally _and_ kept his other curiosities at bay.

"Sir? We were going to your office, right? Are you...I mean if you want we can work on this later. Or if you want to talk about anything..." Cloud's eyes sought the floor; obviously dreading the idea that his suggestion might provoke the general, and his apparent temper, again.  
 _Nosy little twerp! What do you think he'd look like impaled on Masamune?  
_ _He's just concerned. For me? No, it's probably just some lingering fear that I'd harmed the girl. Our upcoming discussion_ should _correct that.  
_ _Well you got one part right at least - nobody gives a damn about you. Let me know if you change the mind about the stabbing.  
_ _Let...you?...know...?_

Sephiroth cleared his throat, stalling as he again tried to form a mental block around that vicious section of his ego. Nonsensical as the idea was...things _had_ felt better for a while, last time.  
And the last thing this overtired, overworked man needed was for the kid to let something slip, out of context, about his current...state. Such things were just his process, surely. Few were brave enough to test the general's patience, and as such, stress was not a common menace.  
 _If anything, I will be stronger for succeeding in this trial. Yes, one cannot hone skills they do not use._

Pleased with the clean logic, and internally appeased that no retort was fired, the taller man relaxed his features. "There is nothing worthy of concern, Strife. In fact, you see now exactly _why_ I am choosing to take time off, correct?"  
Cloud nodded, hesitantly, in response.  
"I assure you, a bit of rest and time to think are all that I require. For now, I wish no further discussion of the matter. None. We've a report to complete, and little time in which to do so."  
The SOLDIER First was almost looking forward to that discussion; _missions_ he understood, _paperwork_ he understood, _the_ _military_ he understood.  
 _Humans, and their feelings, he will_ _ **never**_ _understand. *snicker*  
_ Sephiroth clenched his jaw, focusing on the infantryman and on the _real_ problems that required their attention.

Said infantryman all but eye-rolled in reply, smartly keeping himself in check. At least he'd given up on the 'worried' angle. "Oh...kaay - and what _should_ I tell Lazard? Not just about the mission but, well...about all of this mess?" Cloud was obviously not pleased with the idea of delivering news of their top SOLDIER's departure to the ShinRa executives, not in addition to their failure to neutralize Genesis yet again.  
And _another_ accusation shone clear through the boy's feeble attempts at concealing internal struggle.  
 _What if I did do it...and if so, what if she tries to press charges? Am I really perceived as that...calloused?_

 _What if we made the problems go away?  
_ Knowing that last idea was neither reflected by Clouds expression, nor an option he would choose to pursue, Sephiroth suppressed a grimace, answering the _real_ questions with a confidence he'd learned to feign well.  
So well, in fact, the man began feeling better mid-speech.  
 _Excellent. A successful leader is the cornerstone; he_ _ **must**_ _be an anchor for his men._

"You'll tell them nothing of the events following my departure earlier tonight. I have a suspicion that ShinRa knows who that girl is...or if they don't, that they would not be pleased to learn of her existence." There was a hard pause, and an equally hard look, before Sephiroth's instruction resumed.  
"You saw her eyes, Strife. For the time being, as she is my responsibility, _I_ choose the best course. And until I know more...silence. Understood?" Some unpleasant connections had been forming in the general's mind...such an intense reaction to the SOLDIER's mako glow...that scarring...  
 _I wonder if they - if_ _ **he**_ _\- had any other little projects?  
_ The question alone triggered a stiffening of the man's glare.  
And for a moment in between, aquiline features betrayed a haunted expression that, luckily, the infantryman didn't notice.

 _And just as well,_ Sephiroth reasoned forward, _I am certainly no longer the obedient lapdog ShinRa's grown reliant upon. Not at all.  
_ He was no traitor, not like the others, but it was time the company leash came off. And that was assuming he would choose to return in the first place. The proud general would never disappear - would never run away like some coward - but delivering a letter of resignation in person, and foolishly allowing himself to be manipulated again, were two _very_ different scenarios.  
In truth, just after his revelation, even that former option was considered. But, no, something had felt wrong with the idea, and desertion was quickly removed from the strategist's pool of viable options.  
Sephiroth felt, also, that he could not force another - a comrade in arms at that - to bear the weight of _his_ decision alone. That was not...fair?

 _Comrade? What changed? And why_ _ **did**_ _you use that silly word - friend - earlier? Did you think saying it out loud might magically change your nature? Have you ever_ _ **really**_ _understood what it means, to be a human_ _ **or**_ _a friend?  
_ _Not now. That, and...you are... No,_ _ **this is**_ _merely a reaction to fatigue and increased stress factors.  
_ _If you say so...  
_ The silver SOLDIER sighed, again. "Strife, I do not envy you the position of delivering this news to Lazard, and I will do what I'm able to ensure you are not held responsible for my decisions here today. I am fairly certain he knew what we'd find in the reactor - I don't think he expected Genesis to show up preaching, but I'm not convinced the disclosure will be a surprise, either. The director can be very perceptive when he puts his skills to use."  
Sephiroth paused, lips stretching as he considered just _how_ Lazard Deusericus had attained those skills, among many others.  
 _Yes, I would certainly like to speak to that man - off the record, of course. Lazard might be a useful ally, if he proves worthy of my renewed trust._

Letting the pause linger, wishing to survey Cloud's reaction, the shrewd commander mentally confirmed an earlier decision. "I would like you, cadet, to pen the report; I will assist to ensure all necessary," _and no unnecessary_ , his tone implied, "facts are conveyed. While you work on the draft, I will prepare a document explaining my absence, to be delivered directly to Lazard."  
Sephiroth had been pleased when the young grunt, rather than making assumptions and repeating emotionally charged accusations, applied previous lessons' teachings. His appraisal took longer than Sephiroth's ideal, but it was a start, and definitely something the general could work with, should the boy prove himself further.  
 _I'm owed a number of favors, perhaps it might be time to cash those in. Whether I return or not, an ally in SOLDIER is_ _ **always**_ _beneficial.  
Wait, don't I already have...?_

"As far as Mr. Fair, who I see has still not returned," the man paused, wondering where his mind was going, as he'd only now remembered their other partner. "I trust the second can take care of himself. If he has not returned by morning, then you'll need to arrange for a search party. Perhaps try to call him..."  
 _Yes, Zachary as well, I do believe . Angeal had mentioned recommending him for first. Angeal...how dare you abandon such a promising, albeit rambunctious, student. I will rectify_ _ **that**_ _betrayal as well._

"For the time being, though," Sephiroth finished, masking the pain that accompanied his remembrance of old companions, "the most efficient path forward is to remain here, preparing. I expect certain members of ShinRa will closely scrutinize our recounting of events, so we must consider carefully not just what is divulged, but also the manner in which it is delivered. I have absolute confidence in Mr. Fair, and no intention of letting his tardiness, nor any other happenings, distract us further from our duty."

* * *

For as much as Cloud wanted to disagree, wanted to force his C.O. to face things head on, to not hide within his comfort zone...there was just no way. He had seen Sephiroth's look after unsealing the 'Jenova' chamber; he'd seen what barely lived in the mako filled cylinders below.  
Despite dreading a return to Midgar sans the man he now considered friend, or Gaia forbid alone, there was no chance in hell he'd _ever_ ask Sephiroth to just pretend those things didn't happen. The general was a rock - he would eventually come to terms with...with everything.  
Maybe his method of avoidance wasn't so bad.  
 _We'll try it...I guess. Oh!_

"Zack called me earlier, sir," Cloud remembered, grateful for some good news. "...while you were...out. He said there was a little trouble, but nothing he couldn't handle, and that he'd be back by dawn."  
"Good." Sephiroth had been looking so tired; _that_ weight off his shoulders, hopefully, would help.

By this point Cloud trusted...mostly...that no harm would come to the odd girl, Kilara. And it _was_ uplifting to think that Sephiroth, messed up as he'd been, was still able to do the right thing by saving her.  
The blonde smiled, and would never say it out loud, but he thought she might handle herself just fine...even if the general's unusually protective behaviour was a trick. Besides - assuming sounds really did carry - if there was any trouble, Cloud knew he'd hear it. Ever since boot camp practicing lighter sleep had been a goal, and tonight would be be perfect for putting those new skills to use.

"Ok - that's...yeah let's go work on the report...sir?"  
"Mmmhmm..." the hummed response sounded almost cheerful to Cloud, who watched his idol spin on one heel, fluidly ascending the staircase that would return him to the second floor - seemingly without a care in the world.

Cloud was still bothered by _something_ about the plan...about the general, too. And he did remember to set the percolator aside, turning off the stove, before following.  
The cadet wondered - would Sephiroth have remembered, if he hadn't.  
 _I can't believe work makes him feel_ _ **better**_ _...but it's something...I guess. But...oh no...like Angeal...what if...?_

* * *

The young soldier didn't enter immediately, remaining outside the office, even after soft light brightened the elegantly decorated chamber. He had been a number of paces behind...  
Befuddled, but feeling calmed within his favourite corner of the mansion, Sephiroth returned to the doorway, investigating any delays.  
Every aspect of the recruit's body language screamed anxiety; he shifted nervously despite a sheepish, embarrassed grin. An odd expression indeed; one that Sephiroth had observed betraying the young man's virtuous character on more than one occasion.  
 _We were making progress, what is this sudden hesitance, I wonder?_

Sterling strands shuddered, momentarily exposing an action that the general prayed would be lost on his less attentive ally. The man had looked up - _actually_ _ **looked up**_ _slightly_ \- waiting for his mind's riposte!  
Deciding to not taint his sanctuary with such stresses, Sephiroth exited to the hallway, attempting a look of...of...?  
 _It's easy - opposite of you. Understanding, patience, empathy... I could go on forever.  
_ _I'm sure, but don't. I have work to do._

The question was simple, and there was not time to breech the subject delicately. "You are having doubts? Let's hear them then."  
In truth, the potentially deteriorating commander was curious about what nipped at his comrade's conscience...wondering if it was one of the same things gnawing on his own.  
 _Yes_ , this new mission was abnormal, but the general could find no logical fault in their plan to hide the girl.  
Certainly his moral compass was not _that_ skewed, was it?  
Undeniably, she would be safer with him than in the hands of ShinRa Science. - Hojo or not.  
Absolutely, blind obedience paves the road to atrocity; they were doing _right_ by laws more meaningful than ShinRa's whims.

But of course, not that the distraction was unwelcome, Sephiroth's preoccupation with the mysterious female had resulted in miscalculation. _She_ was no longer Cloud's primary concern.

* * *

Palms sweaty and fumbling for a synonym, even as the words forced their way through trembling lips despite, Cloud asked the _other_ question.  
 _We're not going to end up like Genesis and Angeal, are we?_

"Well, sir...I know that leaving things out isn't technically lying, but...I mean...what if someone, or maybe the Turks found out...before we can explain? What if they accuse us of treas-"  
 _Of treason...like the others..._

Before the treacherous word was wholly formed aloud, an object appeared - almost out of thin air...and only inches from the young soldier's face. Enclosed in black leather was a single finger - belonging to the distinguished general himself - pivoting rhythmically back and forth.  
 **No,** the motion confirmed, coupled with the ruthless focus of anguished eyes.  
Cloud held his breath, regretting his choice of word and hoping some of Sephiroth's famed patience had returned.  
 _I just...I don't want to ruin my chance...they said I could try again next year..._

"This is nothing like that, I assure you," the senior asserted, intensity ebbing. His perceived confidence in the statement, in its truth, quickly eased Cloud's tensions and concerns. Finally, he could breathe!  
 _Of course it isn't...we're just...  
_ "We are simply being cautious. If someone within the company is financing...outside projects," Sephiroth's left eye twitched, almost imperceptibly. "And...or conspiring with someone with whom the company has publicly cut ties, we risk inadvertently warning the criminals in advance. Administrative Research is not the only department skilled in subtlety and covert tactics. The difference is, when we know our enemy, SOLDIERs prefer to fight face to face. Have patience, Strife. We will flush out each and every genuine traitor; we _will_ see them to justice."

 _Did he...did he refer to **me** as SOLDIER?!_  
Wide-eyed, the youth and aspiring hero beamed up at his commander. Finally, Cloud could see the man who had been - no, who **was** \- his idol. It felt like the first time in days. _This_ was the Sephiroth who'd inspired him to join the military - confident, self-assured, wise, and fully in control. _This_ was the Silver Soldier, the Demon of Wutai...  
 _The man I've looked up to my entire life..._

Cloud was convinced. As long as _this_ Sephiroth remained in control, any orders given would be followed to the letter. They _would_ find ShinRa's traitors; they _would_ deliver justice, swift and merciless. Maybe then the boy could visit home, could make his mother proud...could fix things with his childhood best friend.  
 _I didn't even say hello, or tell her it was me..._

"Are your concerns assuaged?"  
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry for having doubts."  
 _First, I need to make something of myself!_

The general cocked his head, pausing, with a pensive look. "No, do not apologize for having doubts. Every... _thing_...is fallible, and blindly following orders can be a danger all its own." It seemed like the seasoned veteran wanted to say more, but refrained.  
 _Maybe he realized we were talking loudly, so close to that girl's room...  
_ "Come," Sephiroth motioned, "the coffee you prepared is still drinkable. We retrieve that, then straight to work."

* * *

Not much later, Sephiroth and the invigorated recruit, who carried a pot of coffee and two cups, settled into the general's office. It was a comfortable room, lined with dark wood shelves, all brimming with books that covered topics ranging from _Advanced Combat Tactics_ to _Zen and the Art of Chocobo Breeding._ Of the mansion's many spaces, this was one of only three that Sephiroth truly enjoyed, that he had truly made his own. Just the memory of hours, eventually years, spent mastering every subject - spent successfully avoiding impromptu tests - brought the man a sense of peace.  
As Cloud situated himself around the desk, an impressive black cherrywood piece, Sephiroth stood - pondering, but hardly lost in thought. A refreshing change.

* * *

Before inviting him to sit, the general turned to Cloud with a serious expression. "Soldier - you did well today. The mission itself may have gone askew, but you handled yourself with the professionalism of a true SOLDIER, and I appreciate that. Before I officially take my leave, you are to be tasked with one additional mission."  
Cloud was a bit taken aback by the general's severe tone...but again realized that it _must_ be a good thing. This was Sephiroth being himself again - serious, subdued, militarily strict and to the point. In control.

 _Still, just like that he's back...amazing! I was probably over-exaggerating what I saw before anyway...  
_ Things made sense again. Responding to the his leader's polished demeanor, Cloud saluted with vigor. "Yes sir, whatever needs to be done, sir!" Even with the mission's troubling revelations, the infantryman had always - and still would - look up to the Wutai War's hero.

* * *

 _Good..._ confirmed Sephiroth. He did plan on, possibly, considering Cloud a...as a friend...but on that short list of qualifiers, the boy was not his number one choice for involvement in this likely-to-be mess.  
All the same, things were how they were, and there was little he could do to change reality. He would adapt.  
Sephiroth studied the young Mr. Strife for a moment. Any trace of his earlier apprehension had evaporated; Cloud stood at attention, but was not tense or fidgeting.  
Yes...he would follow the general's orders to the letter.

"Soldier, as we discussed, you will deliver the report to Lazard, and will relay to him events up to the point of my first return to this building. After that, you will inform him of my displeasure, need for some leisure time, and decision to remain at the mansion, studying. Lazard is the _only_ person who is to know I remain here. Others will, of course, have questions."  
The general paced, but with energy and vigor - not due to stress or need.  
"For those others," he exhaled, hand on forehead, annoyed but not distraught. "There were other infantry around, word _will_ get out about what was found. Just tell them I went on vacation; no you don't know where, but you saw me pack a bag and leave this place. I will phone Lazard tomorrow, before you arrive in Midgar, to explain my decision personally and to ensure he can contact me in an emergency - this is not desertion, understood? This is just...a vacation...to facilitate proper rest and recuperation from my..." Sephiroth's eye twitched again. "From my ordeal. I want _nobody_ to know where to find me physically; but must assuage at least that man. Outside of what we've discussed, everything about this mission is to be considered top secret classified. If you are pressed with questions, you are sorry but you can neither confirm nor deny the answers."

To give the boy credit, in the general's mind, Strife took his time digesting the information - considering just _what_ was being asked of him - and reviewing it one final time. The adolescent thought for a moment, gulped, then gave a hearty salute, "Sir, yes sir!"  
Sephiroth allowed himself a mirthful grin, "And, off the record...I'd prefer if even Lazard couldn't contact me for a while. Unfortunately, to avoid desertion charges, I must speak to him at least once."

* * *

Sephiroth continued smirking, holding Cloud in place by stare alone.  
 _It's almost as if he's expecting somethi...oh..OH! The general wants_ _ **me**_ _to conspire with him!? No...no, conspire isn't the right word at all. He...he...  
_ Realization dawned on the young man as he began to understand not just _what_ his idol was asking, but _why_. Finally, after so long on the sidelines, Cloud felt he'd earned the general's respect - trust even! Of course he would do anything to keep it!

Yes, Cloud had finally caught up, and quickly made a plan. "Well, as I know you've been having some trouble with your own PHS, maybe you could use mine to call Lazard before I leave? I think I have your number programmed into mine...um...but last time I tried, it turns out I'd punched in the wrong digits. We'll want to make sure to check that before I go 'cause I don't think your new number's on file yet."

Sephiroth almost smiled - not quite wide enough to qualify, but close - and took his friend's hand into a hearty shake. "Yes...we'll certainly want to check that. A solid plan, soldier. Now, the reports themselves require our attention." And with that, the general moved to work at his desk, seeming more like _himself_ than he had in quite a while.

Two hours later, and with the bulk of the delicate paperwork handled, Cloud was heading to his room.  
"Strife," Sephiroth lifted his head, looking up from his desk to catch the retreating soldier's eyes. "As your C.O. - I do believe rest is your next, most critical, duty. Do not let me catch you fretting." One corner of too-pale lips lifted to create...something, a shape just removed enough from the legend's haughty smirk, that most would find unsettling. Cloud _thought_ he understood, but wasn't about to gamble.

Puzzled and unnerved - _was he trying to make a joke just now?_ \- the worn-out infantryman mumbled an ambiguous reply, then left the room in haste. Cloud _did_ feel better overall, but there were still so many things he didn't understand, especially when it came to what might be happening to Sephiroth. It was barely visible most of the time, but there was definitely something wrong, still. Even that weird attempt at humor had seemed strained - contrived as if the man had never told a joke before...

Sighing to himself, but knowing he could only do so much, Cloud left the general alone, and with a deeply sincere hope that the overburdened man would get some sleep himself.  
"It's nothing I can fix, not in the next few hours." The whisper was barely audible, but reassuring to hear out loud.

 _\- How will the silver general cope, once the paperwork is done? -_


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N:_

 _I will always view this as a deleted scene of sorts, I'm not sure why, but I cannot convince myself to think of it as anything but that. This especially because we're trying first-person POV again._

 _If I'm honest, though, it's quite the opposite - more of an additional/inserted scene. In the roughest original draft we spent weeks, if not months, in the mansion (and it was chaste time, too...not that this scene isn't, for the most part)._

 _As the story progressed, though, I knew that setup wouldn't work. Not only would ShinRa **never** allow our silver SOLDIER to remain away so long unsupervised, but not a lot was happening plot-wise; we did see some character growth, and we did get to learn quite a bit about Kilara, but...outside of entertaining me as I tried to fall asleep, nothing was really happening. So, I sped things up - the addition of this scene helps justify/explain a few things that will occur later in the story._

 _That, and I think it's kind of sweet, in a broken way._

 _The song I imagined was like 'Chante Arab', but with much more depth and substance; that same sort of dreary and oppressive beauty, though._

 _One last bit - I do apologize for being less than truthful in the initial introduction - there is a bit more first person POV than I had remembered in these early chapters, but that's ok, I think. I very much want to invite you into our deteriorating General's headspace, and FP works for that._

 _If it's interesting to you: when I first started editing this chapter, it was just shy of 5,000 words. I decided to work with an internet stranger, and after their feedback, I've made this scene span two chapters (still putting finishing touches on the second half and am hoping to get it up here in less than one week), both between five and seven thousand words themselves! Some was last-minute plot twiddling, but mostly it was sensory information. Yay editing!_

* * *

 _\- Sephiroth tries to relax... -_

With the official report handled, I wryly ordered Cloud to sleep; it was an attempt at lightening our moods that...that did not succeed, I think. Though humor had never been my forte, I theorized that, perhaps, forcing myself to be less...less...  
 _Stern, cold, desensitized...inhuman...  
_ Yes, I had thought it might change something. Obviously, though, my theory had been quite far from correct; to judge from his reaction, the cadet likely _would_ return to fretting.  
 _*sigh* I cannot let this wear me down._

All the same though, Strife had a busy, and presumably rather trying, day ahead of him. The kid should try to force himself to sleep. I would need him at full mental capacity tomorrow, observing Lazard and the others for interesting reactions while delivering the mission report.  
 _Enough of that, though, even_ I _require the occasional break,_ I reflected, stretching each sore and stiffened limb as I escaped the temptation of further paperwork. _HA! The day I look forward to paperwork...it must have been a long one._ The idea was enticing, but I was feeling restless and wished to move around.

I knew I should be retiring to bed myself, but with all of the questions raised - by Genesis and my subsequent discoveries...and then by that strange woman - I thought to myself, _a glass of wine to relax may not be such a bad idea_. After all, it was not often I allowed myself the dual luxuries of leisure and relaxation.  
A part of me idly considered, wondering why that might be, and found the answer very, very irksome. Hojo had always told me that a true SOLDIER never relaxed. Never. The bastard would even plant 'surprises' - traps - in the labs or in my room, if he believed my guard had grown too lax.  
 _Fuck him,_ I decided; it felt _very_ good to do so.

* * *

Humming softly, I meandered from office, considering which hobby might be most comforting to indulge.  
 _Hmm...yes. It has been quite some time...  
_ Stored in this mansion was a particularly enticing vintage I'd been meaning to sample, and I made the decision to head downstairs, perhaps to enjoy my prize in the music hall. It had been a long day, but I doubted I would sleep, or sleep well at that. There were just too many unanswered questions, and there was far too much turbulence in my thoughts.  
 _A human would be exhausted by now,_ that cruel voice in the back of my head hissed, as if on cue.  
I couldn't really argue, could I?

Ignoring that jab, I was left in peace for a time while making my way to the kitchen, retrieving the bottle, then winding back to the - I mean _my -_ hall to decant and pour a glass. The much needed respite, that blissful silence from my imaginary torturer, was doing wonders to lift my spirit. And, of course, the exquisite Shiraz lent a hand as well.

"Mmm...perfect," the wine was bold, its spicy notes invigorating as I inhaled deeply; dark fruit and pepper danced on my palette, confirming that this bottle had indeed been worth the wait. _This_ was a place I could relax - the music hall was another of my favourite spaces, one of the few I'd personally rearranged. Everything was in place: a variety of instruments, stands, and even some electronic equipment sat neatly arranged throughout the generously open area. Always, I had planned to vacation in the quiet little mountain town; such a shame it took something like _this_ to force my hand.  
 _Next time should prove much more pleasant, I will make certain of that fact.  
_ _As if there's going to be a next time, heh heh..._

I'd tensed, grip nearly crushing thin glass of wine I held, before scolding myself for letting simple thoughts elicit such rash action. I am not a fan of needless waste.  
 _And I am_ _ **not**_ _going to allow this...this mere figment of my stress...I will not allow myself to be manipulated!  
_ Another assault was likely not far off - in preparation, I took the glass' stem in hand, then scanned the room again. Though uncertain what or how, I knew that _something_ in this room would provide adequate diversion from my current irritations.  
 _Meaningless trinkets! How can music soothe your soul if you've never even had one?  
_ _You have no influence over me.  
_ _For now...  
_ _Enough!  
_

I spun, as if to turn my back on the conversation...but feeling well enough, at least, to laugh at the absurd action. That, along with catching sight of a beautiful, antique baby grand, pushed that troubling exchange immediately aside. My favourite instrument stood, alluring and beckoning, near an open corner of the room.  
 _Perfect...  
_ My mood began immediately to lift, knowing that, certainly, the equipment would be in tune; I paid a caretaker well to maintain it, along with the basic cleaning duties, during my lengthy absences.

 _Sitting might help me to unwind,_ I reasoned, sliding out the padded bench and abandoning my recently emptied glass to a nearby table. I'd kept the lighting to a minimum when entering previously, SOLDIER vision does not require much, and the low yellow hues were themselves a comfort; were the exact opposite of the harsh, blue-white tones of the labs where...  
 _No. Now is not the time for memories, I need to relax.  
_ Despite the late hour and risk of waking the others, my fingers instinctively sought out certain keys, intent on at least one performance. I agreed, craving the distraction such concentration might provide.  
 _Why not? I can play quietly.  
_ I've never known the name of the song, just that it's one of the few intact and almost pleasant memories of my early youth. Memories now tinged dark by the knowledge I'd gained - things I tried to avoid dwelling on. I would _not_ let them take this from me, this had become _my_ song. _My_ comfort.  
 _Mine._

A few minutes later, while striving to keep the gentle, andante piece from echoing too loudly, muffled noises drifted in from outside the chamber's open doorway. Wondering if I had a visitor, or if the cadet or girl might have just wanted something from the kitchen, I ignored the sounds, but kept my ears primed to catch any that might follow.  
 _Someone to enjoy my playing, perhap_ s? _Doubtful, actually...the floor did not squeak.  
_ _You thought it was the girl, didn't you? AH HAHA HA HA! Disappointed? Pffftt...as if you can even_ _ **feel**_ _...  
_

I...I might have, actually felt a twinge of...something. But it was none of hi- ... Well it did not matter anyway; disappointment changes nothing about a situation, only actions have effect. _My_ action was to continue onward, as if nothing consequential had occurred.  
 _I've never needed an audience before, and I do not need one now.  
_ _Audience...you meant partner, right?  
_ I did not believe the accusation warranted a response; I had no such inclinations, and only cared that my guest was not in pain or trouble.

* * *

Despite this old place being nowhere near a permanent residence, I have made efforts to ensure I know the building and its layout well. One cannot be too careful, especially when considering the fact that _ShinRa_ gifted it to me, as a hush bribe, after Hojo's madness. After the cost of subsequent cover-ups became too much of a liability for even _them_ to justify. We all pretended I'd been given the choice to accept or decline.  
 _Puppet!  
_ It was only the basement I avoided, and will never fully explore; what remnants of 'science' I _had_ found were enough to justify keeping the secret entrance exactly that. A secret - hidden.  
 _Buried, like all of their treacherous corpses should be. Could be.  
_ _N...no, not like that...but...  
_

 _How did I not see before? The truth is so profoundly obvious with hindsight! How had I_ _ **not**_ _seen?  
_ The answer was simple, and disgustingly clear. I had not wished to see the truth of what I was, and neither _did_ I wish to think on the subject further. None of that thinking would change those facts, anyway.  
 _It is those memories that must be buried._

Slowing the tempo of my ballad, I concentrated on other sounds within the house, unsure of how to feel when I confirmed my visitor was indeed the girl, lingering nearby but not approaching. Cloud was far less skilled in the art of stealth; I almost hadn't noticed her that second time.  
 _It_ _ **is**_ _a beautiful song...maybe...maybe I could play it for my guest, despite what-  
_ _Are you serious? Two 'friends' in one day? My my you're greedy...give it up already._

The melody did not falter - neither in response to the truth of my subconscious retort, nor when I heard the next external noise. It must have been 4th board, about 2 feet back from the hall entrance...just a bit to the left of the door frame; the floor squeaked. Not even a Turk could move soundlessly in _this_ house.  
My stress and anger, disturbingly personified as it had become, cackled as I wavered between a smile and a frown.  
 _An audience might be nice, but..._

Something told me I'd woken the poor girl up by playing too loudly, and the rustle I heard after told me she was still afraid to come closer...but might be convinced otherwise. Slums or not, obviously the girl had been raised with some culture, so why wouldn't she be a fan of music? It is a shame I'd bothered her, but now that she _was_ up, perhaps-  
 _Stop dreaming! But she might be good for something else yaknow...*snicker* I mean...talk about distraction, amIright?_

I felt a twinge of concern, wondering if the situation might not resolve itself well; though I would never stoop to _those_ levels. But what if I - if this strange behaviour plaguing me - frightened the girl away, and before she could recover fully from her injuries?  
 _After all, nobody is_ _ **actually**_ _just...just drawn to beautiful music; this isn't a fairy tale. Nothing can redeem you.  
_ _*sigh* If just one person wouldn't be needlessly jealous, or afraid...I'm not a...  
_ _A monster? Are you sure? Think about it._

The sad truth was, even my so-called friends seemed to fear me from time time. And with Genesis it had _always_ been a competition, though I never fully understood his angry jealousy. How was it a fault of mine that, even when holding myself back, he could not match my skills or power?  
 _Because you're an inhuman monstrosity..._ my mind hissed.  
 _I just...if I took it too easy on him, the man would have been doubly offended. Now stop it! I am_ _ **trying**_ _to relax!_

* * *

After a moment to clear my thoughts, hoping they were not reflected by my expression, the invitation was extended; another attempt at hospitality. My best attempt at smiling when I remembered...  
 _Angel...she'd said...  
_ "Please, come in. My apologies, I must have woken you." I _had_ given her the line about sound carrying, even.  
 _Selfish, inconsiderate, dangerous...  
_ _STOP.  
_ Of course my hands had not stopped playing - did not - even when, not long after, I heard the board squeal again.

Kilara bowed slightly, and I wondered if she'd spent some time in Wutai - such a strange habit of theirs.  
"My apologies, sir." Less frightened more...I wasn't sure. Not a threat though, currently.  
"For what, exactly? It is I who risked waking you."  
 _Concentrate on playing.  
_ _Feh...  
_

"No, I was awake...but..." the girl was hesitant, timid in a way I hadn't anticipated.  
 _But what?_ I wondered, curious as to whether some of those answers I craved might arrive earlier than expected. One less mystery would certainly not be harmful.

* * *

Finally pausing, melody complete, I turned towards the diminutive figure with a questioning look. Hopefully one of the least threatening from my repertoire. Being feared did have its uses, but now was not the time.  
As it stands, social interaction might be the one skill-set in which I am, perhaps, severely lacking. Again, it seemed like this had been a goal of Hojo's, and again I could not fathom any reason why. No sane reasons, anyway; the man was a walking mass of complexes who fed on on the suffering of others. Towards the end, he'd become a...  
 _Monster? As if_ _ **you**_ _are something better? As if_ _ **you**_ _have room to talk!  
_ Again, what argument could I make against the truth?

The girl considered a moment, approaching, but careful not to step too close. I thought her merely shy, until asked a somewhat jarring question. Not the question itself, of course, but her phrasing gave me pause. A quick reevaluation was in order.  
 _Not shy...afraid. Damn it. What did I do to...oh, I see.  
_ "Sir...are you one of those SOLDIERs - the ones who work for the company?" she whispered, meekly stepping back a pace.

Surprising also, was the innocence of her curiosity - how did Kilara know of them, but not of me? Very few people _haven't_ heard of General First Class Sephiroth.  
 _ShinRa's fucking poster boy - more like fucking stooge!  
_ _Hero of the Wutai War,_ I countered, internally of course.  
 _Black-hearted demon, plague to the Wutain people.._.  
 _Stop encouraging it,_ I told myself, thinking back to my unexpected visitor and her choice of words.

I had not been...expecting the question - not in that specific manner, anyway. I, _in fact_ , had decided much earlier that Kilara wasn't a deserter; I do take pride in the accuracy of my psychological profiles, and still held little doubt. But...only people who work _for_ the company call it 'the company.'  
And then there was the answer itself to consider...was I still?

Deciding to try a deflection tactic, I phrased the response carefully. "The matter is...complicated at the moment. I won't turn you in, if that is what you mean to ask."  
It had been the correct decision to resist pursuing the details of her own relationship with ShinRa; I noted some relief in Kilara's posture, but the girl was still guarded. Rather than push the subject too early, I changed it, motioning towards the piano.  
"It seems you knew that song," I ventured carefully - and she _had_ heard it; I'd glanced over, had caught sight of her fingers mock-pressing keys in rhythm with my own.

"I was never very good at the main section, just the counterpoint melody," she smiled, eyes lowered bashfully, hand rising to cover an embarrassed grin.  
 _Well isn't that just a-fucking-dorable?  
_ Shock allowed me to disregard the question and its biting tone.  
 _The what?  
_ I knew the meaning of each word individually, but together, in that order? How could she be both so confident and flustered?  
Those weren't a liar's traits.

But how did she even know that song, _my song_ , in the first place?  
Nearly forgotten memories stirred in the back of my consciousness; sounds and images flashed as if right before my eyes.  
 _My own memories, not an outside influence...good.  
_ Yes. I _did_ recall, sometimes, hearing low bassy notes behind the primary arrangement. And I _do_ suppose those notes _could_ be played on a piano. But where had she heard it - and often enough to actually learn the part? Why had I never remembered that before?

 _Add another set of questions to the stack.  
_ _Add another body to the pile? Hers would make a decent start.  
_ _Cease this hostility immediately!_

* * *

Back outside my head, I hadn't _really_ expected Kilara to sit, but slid myself farther down the bench and gestured her permission to join me at the keys.  
 _I won't hurt you.  
_ _You should._

I stifled a shudder, rejecting the idea immediately, before again feeling that odd...touch - not unpleasant, but very strange as it hummed along and down my spine. The girl looked confused, maybe worried, for a moment. Then, as if she'd finally worked up the courage, Kilara nodded and sat down beside me, hands easily finding the appropriate keys.  
 _There's something I'm missing..._ _ **I know it**_ _. What in the name of Gaia and all humanity could it be, though?  
_ But before I could pursue the question, that angry part of my mind encroached again. _Humanity? Ha! What are you even doing right now?_

 _Best to just ignore myself for a while.  
_ I'd only wanted to hear some comforting music, that was all.

Knowing how quickly situations could degrade with the flighty girl (and her weapons) if I made the wrong move, I focused intently on playing, restarting the melody. Curiosity seemed to overpower any further dark thoughts, at least for the moment, and I welcomed the respite.  
 _Finally, something relaxing._

Three notes in, I heard Kilara begin. The lower keys on the instrument emulated the tune's subdued bassline surprisingly, exquisitely, well. It was the type of addition and harmony that you don't notice until you _really_ listen, as I was doing. The music soothed that other, angry side, and allowed my mind to idle, to reminisce as I pondered the origins of this charming piece.

At first, music had been just another skill to master, but this song...father - _No, I will not think of him in that manner! I am only assuming anyway; there is no hard evidence!_ \- this song was his work as well. He would have me play it when in high spirits...after successful _tests_.  
I remembered now, on some occasions, he'd join me - playing bass or cello - playing _that_ part.  
 _Positive reinforcement? Another game? No!  
_ This should not be tainted; _he_ would want me to make those associations, and I refused.

The girl's accompaniment only served to strengthen my resolve; I would take this song, my lullaby and anthem, in return for...for everything. This was now _mine_ to enjoy freely, _mine_ to share. My _inheritance_.  
 _Pitiful...  
_ _I do not care what_ _ **you**_ _think!_

* * *

I wouldn't say I felt uncomfortable - such is not my nature - but as we finished the song, there was a sense of...intimacy. One that, for all the gallantry earlier, I found myself enjoying; one that I scolded myself for enjoying.  
Still, the duet had been a welcome comfort, even if it raised more questions, after a very trying last few days. I _could_ be something other than ShinRa's destructive monstrosity. What had just occurred was quite the opposite of destruction, it was _art_ and creation.  
I considered asking if Kilara would allow a recording; I would like to remember her...acceptance.

"That was..." B _eautiful? Exquisite? Exactly what I needed?_ "...very good," my voice sounded unusual.  
 _Sultry? You really are an evil bastard.  
_ _No, just a dry throat; need liquid...Why am I even having this...this is_ _ **not**_ _a conversation._

"Where did you learn it?" I asked, moving with purpose to pour another glass of wine, trying to keep my face from contorting at the renewed assault from my internal monologue. I stressed the _mono_ in my thoughts.  
 _What_ _ **was**_ _that just now anyway? It felt almost like another per...no, that is not possible.  
_ What a completely illogical idea that had been; certainly a rational explanation would be found.  
 _Fatigue, surely,_ I told myself.

I was concerned, slightly, by the length of Kilara's pause at what should have been a simple question. Or, perhaps my internal...preoccupation...had not lasted as long as it had felt. Since she still hadn't answered, but for some reason looked up at me - eyes a touch glazed from the painkillers (my assumption, anyway) - I motioned towards the decanter, only then realizing the mistake.  
 _You're going to give her the wrong ideeee-ahhhh,_ sang cruelly in my mind.

Luckily, Kilara hadn't misinterpreted.  
 _Or realized how creepy that was_ \- this...this fucked up conscience **pest** was getting on my last nerve! That was not...!  
 _I have no such intent, she just shouldn't be mixing alcohol with painkillers,_ I answered...thought, with a twinge of guilt.  
Anyway, my convalescing visitor should've been sleeping. Why wasn't she?

"No thank you, but...perhaps some water, if it's not too much trouble?" At least, judging by the meek smile, it seems the girl was willing to overlook my faux pas.  
 _Oohh...she's_ innocent _. You like that? Lecherous I can work with...  
_ _Yes...wait! Not...not like...just shut up!  
_ "Of course - the kitchen is this way." Even the short trip was welcomed; anything to keep me distracted from those strange and intrusive thoughts. What was happening to me?  
 _Work with? Nonsense. Concentrate on the external, you're just digging an introspective hole by acknowledging those manifestations of your stress.  
_ There were plenty of things, other than my rebelling psyche, worth focusing on. And, _that,_ some sleep should clear up easily.

Studying her movements, something struck me as off about Kilara's gait; it was no longer smooth, almost a stagger instead.  
 _Shit...her friend...the wail of sheer despair earlier. Then so cheerful. Did she...no that wouldn't be like her...  
_ _And how do you know_ _ **her**_ _?_ another... **the** other...voice retorted in my head. That one had felt significantly less like my own thought, sinister and alien.  
Maybe I hadn't fully dealt with the situation and discoveries earlier. But... _actually_ hearing voices?

I would hate to be cliche.

It is one thing to hash out conversation in one's own mind, it's another to talk to yourself. This was neither. My psyche, or some part of it, was talking **to** me. I needed another distraction. Then, absolutely, I must rest. Surely the girl was just tired as well, and looked to be much in need of sleep herself.  
I did feel duty bound to evaluate Kilara's state - to confirm that fatigue was in fact the only issue, despite not often being one to worry for others.  
Additional guilt - or whatever it's called - would not be beneficial to my recovery; how difficult could it be to ask?

 _A soft spot for one little bird won't change the monster you are. Want her to 'rest' with you, do ya? Hmph...I don't think mother would approve.  
_ _How do I_ _ **know**_ _it's grinning? Mother?  
_ I ignored the taunts, my own troubling questions included, and concentrated on Kilara - watching just in case she fell, and searching for other symptoms. I frowned, doubting she would make it as far as the kitchen before collapsing.  
 _What is wrong? How can I help?_

"Hey, miss, you don't look well...why don't you sit down here," I motioned towards a couch we were passing. "I'll bring the water to you, OK?"  
Eyes unfocused and glassy, she nodded, nearly tripping into the piece of furniture.  
I made for the kitchen as she sat; my own skull had begun to pound, but the pain was receding as I focused only on the task at hand.  
 _Not my business if she wants to waste materia.  
_ I grimaced...no that was not my opinion at all. In fact, I was...concerned?

 **In fact** , I did all I could to not race back, full-speed and glass in hand. Instead, I moved with purpose, not too quickly, and mildly dreading what I might find upon returning. Setting the beverage on a conveniently placed table, well within her reach, I was about to confront the woman. I wanted to just...I don't know, grab her by the chin and hiss - shout, furious - 'what the fuck have you done to yourself?!' No warrior should go out in such a manner, and I had seen for myself - Kilara was a warrior.  
I considered doing those things, yes, but never did take any action; anger in situations such as this almost never improved the outcome.

And, I didn't...and I didn't really _want_ to do that. She'd called me an angel, played my song, and seemed to accept me without question; without asking anything in return - who was I to decide...what?  
 _She just doesn't know the truth, how monstrous you are. Wanna show her?  
_ _No. Shut up, I'm on to something here.  
_ Was I angry because if she killed herself now, my earlier hopes of...redemption?...would be lost? When had _I_ become the type to shackle myself to another's whims?

Hojo had gone to great lengths to instill in me just how dangerous it was to rely upon another, for anything, unless you had complete control of them.  
 _Fuck. Fuck him. Fuck his 'lessons!'  
_ _Let's fuck them all up! Yeah! Fire and brimstone!  
_ I don't know what I wanted to do, but certainly it was not that. Neither was I certain how, exactly, I felt, or if I was even capable of feeling, but...  
 _I should just get some sleep,_ I concluded, mentally resetting. _First, though, I need to at least make sure this girl's not going to die. She can't..._

She wasn't. Whatever inner light the girl was missing earlier had brightened and returned; her eyes were shining, focused and _aware_ again.  
Kilara crouched, balled up...or more wound up and ready to spring, in the corner of the couch. Relief allowed my quickened pulse to normalize, and I might have even smiled at how foolish my initial concern seemed now.

Daggers at the ready was something I'd always appreciated; the mark of an experienced fighter. And hers were _quite_ ready - arms crossed in front, each hand just above a handle - but they were not yet unsheathed.  
Perhaps I'd gained a bit of trust?  
The poor thing seemed to radiate loneliness, an impression that lessened after our duet; maybe it was some strange hope, or want of companionship, that kept the knives at bay? She _had_ just lost her friend, and the two had obviously been close.  
 _Hope? Companionship? Stop projecting, haha,_ my muddled mind interrupted, again only to be ignored. Sephiroth does not _project._

Stepping closer, I started to apologize, thinking I'd likely scared the girl, "I'm sorry for rushing in like that. I thought for a moment you might have taken...I shouldn't have left them all there when you seemed so...troubled...after..." I had never excelled at this type of conversation, or any conversation not involving military strategy, and trailed off with no idea what words normally came next.

The attempt was enough, though, and got the unusual woman started; Kilara shifted, turning towards me, before apologizing.  
"No. And please, I beg your pardon for...intruding." Her eyes were hard with defiance again, but the voice I heard was small and whisper soft.  
 _Interesting reaction. But I fail to understand, why apologize? Why the strange blend of wistful and resolute?  
_ _Meh, humans - females at that; who knows? Who cares? I can't imagine_ _ **you**_ _have any reason to, let alone the ability.  
_ _My concerns are none of yours. Leave._

I knew, based upon the figment's frequency, and in addition to my returning headache, that I _needed_ to try to sleep. But I could not; this Kilara was talking, and I **_needed_ **to solve the mystery of her origins and appearance. Both her appearance here in Nibelheim, and the physical anomaly our irises and pupils seemed to share.  
 _Mako eyes glow blue, every case that I've seen and no matter the originating colour. Hers have appeared anywhere from lavender to violet, and mine...  
_ _Oh, that's easy, snake-eyes! You're a slithering, spiteful, savage snakebeast! Yellow and blue make green, idiot. And I'm getting bored, so why not make with the red while we're at it?  
_ _I will do no such things, and your theory is preposterous! No. More._

Thinking on other things, and hoping that my internal orator was _quite_ finished, my focus shifted toward more immediate needs. It would be ideal if the caretaker had been remembering to rotate out expired medicine cabinet stock; I loathed both headaches and being without adequate supplies. My skull still throbbed uncomfortably, and I decided to sit down on the other end of Kilara's couch - giving my guest plenty of space and a nod that said 'continue.' Medication could wait a few more minutes.

The girl obliged, "No I'm sorry...and no it's not that; I couldn't...well, anyway I'm not used to having much in the way of medicine and," she paused, trying to stifle a regretful expression. I could see no reason for this regret, but did not wish to interrupt or otherwise risk sabotaging the conversation.  
"It was presumptuous of me to even think I could keep some but, well, I was actually trying to save it if anything." Kilara managed a grin, "Haha...to think after...haha...please I apologize. Yes, I promise all is well. I was just tired, that is all."

I found myself annoyed when the grin far too quickly faded from her soft, yet angular, face. "Anyway, I didn't...answer you earlier."  
 _Compliment her face all you want, it's not going to make you likeable or less atrocious, haha!  
_ _It was merely an observation, nothing more._

I chose to remain silent - sans the brief mental correction - intent on listening before I could hurl questions, or even chastise myself for being an ass by doing so. Obviously the girl was fine, now, but that last assertion made me wonder...  
 _To think someone so obviously strong would...but it couldn't have been that if she's recovered...anyway -_ _ **attention!**_

Kilara was pensive, "I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly, it's such a...a unique melody." The girl's pained grimace at the word _unique_ , quickly suppressed as if it's use had been a slip, puzzled me. I knew the gesture meant _something_ , but what? The girl was still talking, and I set the thought aside, hoping she'd explain.  
"But, then when I realized I **had** heard...well you should probably know this thing. I'm sorry if they come looking for you...please don't tell anyone you saw me. Just...just tell me and I'll go...if you're hiding too..." fear and sadness choked Kilara's final words, and I felt my head begin to shake, as if my disagreement alone could change the situation.

"Who are they? What do you mean?" I asked, mind instantly awake and firing on all cylinders as pieces fell into place.  
Of course! How had I missed it? I knew I'd suspected, but had not truly believed that possibility. Other parts of ShinRa maybe, but not...  
 _Those eyes...the scars... . .song...  
_ I could hear his fucking voice, "...shame to risk such a _unique_ specimen, but the experiment will provide invaluable data." The specter in my head, whose impersonation had been far too accurate, cackled viciously as I felt twinge's flutter hit my eye.  
I had not **wanted** it to be _him_.

"The prof-" she shook the word away, uncomfortable with saying even that syllable out loud. "Well, he claimed he wrote that song...and really as far as I know anyway my...I mean he wasn't my actual father, but he taught-"

...I sat, frozen, staring at Kilara...nauseated by the implications of her words. It must have been shock, finally setting in after the woman's own ordeal, that loosened her tongue further, producing another hastily expelled disclosure; a confession that seized my complete and undivided attention, even as that other voice of madness tried desperately to interrupt.  
On this subject, especially, I had _no_ interest in its commentary.

My guest was not as frantic as she'd been during the first episode, babbling on about repayment, but I would not have called the woman calm.  
"And he wasn't really my step father either...was a fucking _kidnapper_ if anything. He...my mother, I guess, worked for him for a while. She was...she had some problems with debt...and...and some other things. I guess he, when he saw she'd fallen pregnant again from Gaia knows what kind of bastard… Saw an opportunity I guess, and offered to pay the debts off as long as she did some token secretary work...and...and let them take the...take me...to quote 'be raised in a better place.' Why am I even telling..."

Kilara's expression at that point looked as if she might fall apart again, but the girl had some resiliency, and held herself together.  
At least, distressed, she was talkative; something useful, but I could find no enjoyment in her revelations.  
This information was disturbing, as was the prospect of there being others. Others like me.  
 _An army of fuckin' monsters, right!? Brilliant!  
_ I refused to respond, continuing to analyze Kilara and her mental state. The girl was doing well to calm herself.

"Anyway, you've been so kind. Maybe you- ...Just, please sir, don't make me go back ok? I'll get you money for the clothes and healing...just...I thought he didn't work for you...for them...anymore...please..." the girl trailed off, eyes glazing over again.  
Maybe not, maybe suppressed tears were the cause of that shine. I could not tell; I would not know.  
I could barely think straight.

 _Work for you...them? Right, ShinRa...only SOLDIERs have eyes like this...or not, that bastard. No! That's not right! Why would they -_ _ **he**_ _\- harm this...this delicate flower?  
_ _Delicate flower? What trashy chick-book did you pull_ _ **that**_ _shit from? Ah hahah! De-flower maybe, if you can find the balls. Just one touch, try it. She's vulnerable right now, and I'm fucking bored.  
_ _Fuck you! The girl has obviously suffered, why would I compound that?  
_ _Oh you know...because of what you are...*snicker*_

It was not wholly incorrect. At that point there were so many things I wanted to do, none of them constructive, save for getting her _away_ before I did them. I would find...would destroy _everything_ if it meant punishing that man. _I_ could handle the bastard's sick penchants...but to ask anyone else... _ **her**_...to endure...no... **NO!  
** Fists clenched painfully, I was ready, needing only to decide which target to hit first.  
 _Finally...*scoff*_

I wonder if it was rebellion against the voice, or maybe Kilara's resumed speech that quieted my rage; that stopped me from...from I do **not** know what. In either case, I believe it best that I was stopped. But also, somewhere deep down, I did still want...now _needed_ , to know more. A part of me didn't want to hear it, but I _had_ to know.  
I would listen; punishment would come later.  
"Tell me...please. If you wish."

* * *

Shivering, and still not quite focusing her stare, the girl began to whisper. Her physical state was somewhat concerning, if I'm honest with myself, but that compulsion, that _need_ to solve every facet of the puzzle, kept me from interrupting.  
 _If it worsens, I'll have to make her stop.  
_ _Selfish. Not that I care if you let her die, but_ have _you ever seen mako eyes lose their glow like that?  
_ I hadn't, but shoved the question aside, observing. Kilara was in a kind of trance-like state, and for all _I_ knew, trying to interrupt her might cause further damage. I think that's why it wanted me to try.

Weakly voiced, but coherent, the story flowed. "Early on it wasn't that bad, I was fed and educated well. But later on - do you know he said, heheh said I'd get to join SOLDIER - be the first girl in 1st class, stand up for women and all of that hopes and dreams role-model garbage? I wanted to be important, to help...to _be_ something. So sure, I endured the mako and the...pain? I guess you'd call it that. Claimed I was 'special' and couldn't be sedated...liar."

I was also familiar with the feeling and, yes, you would call it pain. Beyond pain, sometimes. The price of being _special_.  
"That fucking monster...how dare he..." I found myself whispering, beginning to fill with rage again on her behalf.  
It was one thing that he'd experimented on me...but on this innocent girl? We were children!  
She was human!

 _You don't know she's innocent!_ \- great, the voice again.  
 _You shut up right now! Nobody deserves that...  
_ _Nobody but a monster like you anyway.  
_ _Fuck...you're right..._

That this...I don't know...my anger started to turn into something different when Kilara stopped to look in my direction, eyes refocused and showing a mixture of fear and relief, maybe a tinge of concern...for me?  
Perhaps I'd twitched again; that particular reaction I'd never, fully, learned to control. Or perhaps I'd failed to hold my expression as various memories - lost until this worst of moments - threatened to bubble up from the depths of my subconscious mind. Horrible, disgusting, agonizing memories.

 _*...eeeeeeeeennnnnn...*  
_ My ears were ringing now, exacerbating my headache as it toed the line of migraine.  
 _Breathe. It's just tinnitus, wars and explosions will do that. Breathe. Is someone messing with the lights?  
_ For a second, the room seemed bright and growing brighter, but it must have been the migraine. I blinked, and once again the room was dim, bathed in the rich, warm tones of soft illumination.  
 _Where were we? Memories. Right. Horrible memories, for which I do not have the time._

Issues aside, I was certain that my stance on Hojo, and delivering Kilara back into his hands, was crystal clear at least.  
The girl's own state was looking better, and for the moment, I was able to hold the past at bay. I believed the situation was improving all around, needed to believe it was. The girl was making me uneasy.  
No. My suspicion concerning what past events might be responsible for her current, haunted, look was making me uneasy.  
 _*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*_

The ringing dulled my auditory sense, almost drowning out her question. "I'm sorry, are you...all right? I didn't mean to make you angry...and I kn- I think it isn't _at_ me. Listen, he didn't do...not anything like that."  
My thoughts had gone to a dark place...remembering, straining to not relive, more of Hojo's little 'experiments.'  
 _*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*  
_ _Focus, what is she saying? And I'll have to get that dimmer fixed; the room has certainly grown brighter this time._

Remarkably, Kilara's story cut through the awful screeching, "By the time I was maybe seven I'd figured out he was lying about...about almost everything, and I fought and tried to escape a lot. All the time. Every chance." The girl made a noise that might have been derisive; it was difficult to tell with everything so muffled in my ringing ears. "Outside of...treatments, experiments maybe… He, or they, or he because they were afraid to disobey him… Yeah, he kept me sedated mostly...locked up. It was almost good luck." Whether she meant to speak _to_ me, or just could not hold her own troubled memories in any longer, I did not know. In truth, I did not care, only wishing to learn as much as possible before the opportunity was gone. I wanted every bit of ammunition against that bastard, the girl's every word provided another reason to gut him slowly.  
 _He will rot. I will make him suffer.  
_ _They all should rot and suffer - what makes him different?  
_ _...Him first, I will work the rest out later._

Kilara paused for a moment, wavering. I tried to figure out what she kept staring at, something far away it seemed. Eventually, I realized that I would never be able to see what she did. I wondered if the girl could see anything at all, actually, and was bothered by the increasing vacancy of her expression.  
 _Maybe I should stop her now. I'll take some Aspirin and*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*  
_ The light and focus had completely left Kilara again, and I felt pained in solidarity, almost thankful for the fragmented memory of my early years. What I _did_ remember was burdensome enough, and I had- _*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*_

Forcing my attention to the present, noticing Kilara's relatively musical cadence grow increasingly monotonous and robotic, I fought back a growl of frustration. She wasn't looking well, and it was getting so **fucking difficult** to hear!  
 _*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*  
_ I couldn't understand a fucking word with that incessant ringing in my ears!  
 _Oh, interesting! I think I've got you now, haha!  
_ And that, of course. I doubted even going deaf would grant respite from _that_.  
 _And why is it so fucking bright in*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*_

I made one last effort, straining and frustrated by Kilara's disappearing voice - the girl was oblivious, and between that horrible, piercing screech and the demon's hysterical laughter, nothing she said could reach me. Just as dulled, it seems, my other senses offered nothing for the moment either; I couldn't see and the **fucking room** was far too **fucking bright!** My head was pounding and I was sweating, shaking from the pain.

 _This has to stop!  
_ I flailed, reaching in the direction I thought she 'd be sitting, but too disoriented to be certain; I was willing to risk the damage ripping the girl so harshly from her trance might cause. I prayed to everything I could imagine, begging, hoping that I was wrong, and that the action wouldn't hurt her. "Kila-" _*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*  
_ _I'd wondered *...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...* you hid this! Let's *...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...* some fun*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*_

The migraine finally peaked, exploding pain and torment, noise and static raged at war, straining my skull as the dim room flared painfully bright white.

 _\- I hope they'll be okay... -_


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: We come in, still utilizing Sephiroth's POV, just a moment after the last chapter's ending. I'll give warning that things get rather dark for minute_ _ **(triggery?)**_ _; know thyself and thy limits and all that jazz. This re-write got way more detailed than the original draft; and (as you can tell by upload date and word count, I'm sure) I spent a long time writing, rewriting, editing, flip-flopping about whether to cut this or that, generally being frustrated...and not to mention changing into clean panties during the process of editing certain parts...so there's that._

 _This ended up so long that I considered halving it again, but there aren't any decent cuts that are both clean and about halfway through. As such, long chapter is long..._

 _I might consider, at some point, uploading the rough original, just for comparison. I suppose that depends on whether there's any interest or not. The new version leaves less up to the imagination, as far as what's seen/heard, and as far as what the problem is. I'm not sure the original said enough, though, as far as foreshadowing or explaining the what/how (and the little charm is completely new, I drew it as a break from this story, and then that part just clicked). I also found some neat opportunities for humor, which is nice. I do feel a bit bad for what I end up putting them through, though._

 _By the way as well - GFC = General, First Class. It seemed a fitting acronym.  
And yes, that's Lojban (you'll know) - simplified, at least; I haven't touched it in a couple years._

 _Tension is still building - it's getting harder for our champion to control his deteriorating mind, but the shoe doesn't drop just yet, I promise. Can the strange abilities of his even stranger guest help save the general from encroaching madness? Or, will insanity prevail, coercing him into action that most consider awful?_

 _Come to think of it, is it truly madness, or something else entirely?_

 _The broken star itself is now the 'icon/image' for this story; it does not load well for me (possibly because I'm an asshole who won't use one of the 'big 3' browsers - Brave and Pale Moon FTW. Anyway, if you'd like to see it elsewhere, type cmclabs - dot - info - slash - brokenstar - dot - png - why does this place **hate** links? - into the ol' URL bar of your browser (or, if you don't trust me, it's on ello here (add ello - dot - co and whatnot because FFnet hates URLs): _/deltasly/post/krgc1ksu1c1tgy6ydymaia ) _. I'm working on a true to life, coloured-in version, but the copper supports are giving me some trouble._

 _... anyway ..._

 _\- What happened? Where are we? Are_ _ **we**_ _...? -_

* * *

"What?" I asked no one in particular, eyes still squeezing shut against harsh, blinding light. Something felt off - wrong in a manner that I somehow knew could not be helped, at least not until I got my bearings. Still dizzy, and slightly nauseated from the migraine, my body fought to stay upright; it was as if my limbs had lost their correct proportions.  
 _Wasn't I sitting down a moment ago?  
_ It didn't matter; whether seated or upright, _I_ do not allow myself panic.

 _You cannot see, use your other senses.  
_ Instincts honed by years of training drove me onward, calming and logical in their suggested process. First, I needed to find out where I was, second I would deal with any threats; none seemed in need of immediate dispatch at the moment. From there, I could figure out what happened. There was something else too, a feeling I'd forgotten something of importance. I stopped, breathing and counting, stepping through previous events, and thinking.  
 _Fuck._

"Kilara?" I called, slowly feeling my way around the vicinity, encountering no resistance from either furniture or walls. That voice, _my_ voice was different - pitched too high, small and lacking the confidence of an elite and hardened SOLDIER.  
 _Focus, there are more important tasks at hand. You can live without a voice, even moreso with an odd one.  
_ Though I could not see, my speculation was that the room or space was large and fairly empty; neither my footsteps nor my shout produced much echo. In fact, the room was completely silent, eerily silent, save for the ringing tinnitus in my ears and the buzz of florescent lighting overhead.

 _Okay, sound and touch give us little, what about-  
_ It hit just before the thought could fully form - a pungent, threatening odor. A scent with which I was far, _far_ too familiar: biting astringency that could never fully mask the repugnant stink of deteriorating mako, nor the metallic tinge of blood and...other mingling fluids. A nauseating scent. Tonight, an especially terrifying scent - and there exist _very_ few things I fear.  
 _Pull yourself together, SOLDIER!_

Eyes burning from the stink and light; fighting to suppress the gagging, coughing, heaving, and wheezing my body automatically attempted, I fought to breathe. The situation's full weight had settled, heavily, sickeningly deep as it burrowed into pit of my stomach; deeper as I froze in place. I might have fucking begged, if I'd sensed anyone nearby to hear me.  
I might have done it anyway.

 _Be strong! You need to fucking breathe!  
_ No, this was not a place in which I wished to be. Not here. Hojo's special lab was _never_ a place one _ever_ wished to be. Perhaps it was for the best I could not see, not that it mattered much at all. The fear was ingrained, woven into my very cells and bones.  
 _Breathe. Think. This_ _ **must**_ _be an hallucination - you are in Nibelheim, you were talking to the eccentric girl. Not even ShinRa's most classified technology could have physically transported you here. Could have...Gaia, please don't let Kilara be here too._

As if on cue, the room shifted, quickly spinning counter-clockwise and severely threatening my balance. I felt the overwhelming brightness change intensity, condensing into a harsh blue-white, bearable but still too bright, cold and chilling tone that I knew all too well.  
 _Familiar, isn't it?_ My subconscious tormentor seemed to sneer the question.  
 _No, I dealt with this. Well, I mean I buried it or shoved it aside or...or wasn't cursed with remembering details in the first place. In either case, it's over, there is no reason to revisit...I do not_ _ **want**_ _to know why this place makes me feel so ill!  
_ Somehow, I knew that answer was its goal.

Slowly, eyes readjusting to the gift of sight, _or perhaps the curse, in this place,_ I turned to sweep the room, disgusted by my own pleading reaction; disgusted by my weakness.  
 _Pay attention! Something's changed. What?  
_ A new set of sounds, muffled - not Kilara, certainly - began to filter through my haze, breaking past the buzzing headache. None of the words were intelligible at first, and I was far too dazed to split attentions, choosing to focus completely on my renewed ability to see; the sounds did not seem threatening, and so could wait a moment.

 _Breathe. Gaia, Goddess...if any of you do exist, please do not let this be_ , the silent prayer was a plea, an appeal to _anything_ that might be listening. _Please, not this place...please…_ I, Sephiroth, SOLDIER elite and the youngest general in military history, was terrified. Phantom pinpricks seemed to assault me from all sides, pinching at my arms, thighs, stomach...other places. Any location one could find excuse to stick a needle into, and some others for which no sane excuse existed.

This was the isolated testing chamber, number six - the one without cameras; the one where ethics tend to be forgotten.  
I knew this room well, and today there was something unexpected in the center of the room, but I could not determine, exactly, what that thing might be. Every time I tried to focus on the object my vision blurred and shifted, as if frantically _trying_ to avoid positive identification. This shifting led to a dizziness that, for the moment, convinced me to refrain from further attempts. It did appear stationary, and for that was likely not immediately a threat.  
 _But...the proportions here are off somehow, everything seems much larger than it should. Is this part of the illusion?  
_ _Heh, heh...look!_

"No. No! What is this? I...no..."  
 _Wake up. You need to wake up!_ _ **Now!  
**_ _This isn't a dream, boy...heh...  
_ I stared down, confused by my own body; confused by my suddenly thirteen again, hospital gown enshrouded body. Bare feet on freezing metal tile explained my goosebumps, but not the sweating; neither explained the blood, little damp dots spreading along the sickly pea-green cloth in places no true doctor would ever need to puncture.

"Fuck, I'm bleeding? Was ... were ... no this isn't real! I could not have _really_ felt those needles! I...HEY! Can...can anything hear me! This needs to stop! NOW! This cannot be..." Vision became an issue again as my eye, always the left, began to quiver. I don't remember the experiment itself, only that it made me...  
 _Breathe.  
_ I had been permitted tears once. Once only. The second time, though I cannot recall what had affected me so strongly then, either - the second time he'd crushed - "Ah HAHAHAhaahaa...ahhhh," that was it, I broke. I could not stop laughing as, slowly, my somehow child's body crumpled to the floor, reciting one of the first mantras I had embraced, had found a working mechanism with which to cope.

Resigned to madness, I could see no reason to not continue aloud, giggling and sputtering to nobody. "Sphenoid, ethmoid, zygomatic, lacrimal...hehehe...hehe... _laughable!_ " There were others, the mixture or broken facial bones differed slightly every time, but my attention had drifted elsewhere. "Every time, healed _personally_ by the good professor, _ah haha_. Every time. Such an accident prone boy, you don't know your own strength and must be careful; such a shame, _hahaha!_ There was nerve damage at least once...damage...he missed it...that's when it started..the twitch..."

I sat up, hands covering the shameful, flickering reminder of my weakness, "He'd fucking **left** it! There was no oversight..."  
 _Calm down. Sephiroth does not curl into the fetal position! Sephiroth does not fucking whimper!  
_ I had no idea whether I was coaching myself, offering affirmation, or just remembering the hard-learned lessons. It didn't matter. I was done. "This must end, now!"  
 _Oh? No boy, we're just getting started!_ I must have gone mad, for a second I'd thought _it_ might let me crack in peace...into pieces here. I still didn't understand, why did it bring me - or at least my mind - back here?

The vile, cruel and wicked voice droned on, blurring the lines between internal and external torment. Was it 'it' or me? Or was it Hojo? That reptilian lilt, that fucking sense of self-importance! It _was_ him.  
 _Goddess why? I deserve this don't I? 'Only following orders' was never an acceptable excuse, but...  
_ _And still, boy - you do not have a choice. Watch. Listen. Remember what you are, and why you don't deserve to live much longer.  
_ "...final preparations for the test. Turn around, boy." I did not move, nor did I have any plans to move until the nightmare ended. The phantom stepped around me anyway, demonstrating its annoyance with an angry sigh.

"Fu-! Nnnggh..." automatically I'd bitten down, muffling the cry and bloodying my lip - that freak had never understood the concept of needle gauges. Large bore for siphoning, small for injecting. The bastard preferred extreme for every application.  
 _This isn't real. Not again. Not for years. Breathe.  
_ I knew it could not be real, but whatever poison that had been was having an effect. Some other force was lifting me, trying to make me stand, but the dizziness had returned, bringing with it a warm, too hot feeling. My skin must have been flushing, and I could hear, could feel in my temples the blood coursing through my body, rushing to and from places that...

 _What. the. fuck?  
_ I knew the man was sick, but I'd never expected...  
Praying that there was a point to this nonsense, that he wasn't mixing business with pleasure in some new, and fascinatingly fucked up manner, I looked again at my...  
 _...  
_ Trying to grasp at words as they fled, knowledge itself leaking from my muddled brain, I could only stare, speechless. Of course I knew what it was - was quite familiar with the concept at this point, but something about being trapped in that barely pubescent body altered my perceptions. I didn't understand why my...I mean logically I could correlate it with the injection...but why? There was no reason for my penis to be throbbing, stiff and swollen as it stood, peeking out from the gown's open front. Was it an allergic reaction? The condition was borderline painful.  
And to top it off, I _hate_ unanswered questions.

 _Breathe. Don't Panic! This is not real! Is it a memory, perhaps? Nothing feels explicitly familiar, but it does all feel familiar in a way. Déjà vu...and what_ _ **is**_ _that blurry object? What has happened to my body? Why can't I see what is*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*  
_ Pain.  
No.  
Agony.

"Fuc..rrnnnng-*hic*-pleasnononot-*hic*-staahahannno..." Strange, how it always worked - the only thing I felt was _pain_ ; no sensory input, no real _feeling,_ only pain. I couldn't feel that I'd fallen to the floor, back arched and body contorting in ways that should not have been possible. I couldn't feel it, but I knew that's where I lay, convulsing.

 _No. Pl-NO!  
_ I would **not** give him the satisfaction! I would **try** to not give him the satisfaction. I wanted to scream, to cry and howl away the torment as every nerve in my body lit bright with excruciating sensation, but I would not give in, could not so easily give him what he wanted! Even my mantras, my distractions were no help; my brain was too fried to remember anything, and my heart was thrumming far too erratically to set a chanting rhythm.  
 _Don't scream! Do not let him have this! AAAAAAHHHHHH!  
_ I probably gave him the satisfaction, but eventually found a thread of pride; I clung to it with everything I had.

Falling back to the simplest, easiest of incantations, I began to count. To breathe. To focus on anything that wasn't pain.  
 _One. *inhale* One.  
_ _FUCKPLEASE!  
_ _Two. *exhale* Two.  
_ STOPIT!  
 _Threeeee..mmmm...  
_ The sigh, relief, the purest so-called emotion I have ever known, washed graciously over my burning, aching everything. The...the physical abnormalities were still present, but that discomfort was _nothing_ compared to the torture I had just escaped. I could kiss the bastard, I was so grateful that it stopped. That I'd read extensively on similar manipulative techniques, and that I knew that was the point, had no bearing on my feelings in that moment.

"nnnnnnghuhnn," I could only sigh, body limp and consciousness wavering. No, it had not been the shriek ringing in my ears that so quickly reduced me - _**me!**_ \- to a trembling heap, panting on the floor - shaking weak and fucking helpless.  
It had been _that_ pain. I had not felt that brand of torture in _years!  
_ I could have wept, despairing at its return, had my ability to do such things remained intact.

There was...is still...an implant, somewhere on or near my spine - I doubt I'll ever be allowed to know the full truth, or anything that might provide a key to how the dreadful thing functions. But I **can** confirm it functions. Effectively. Truly brilliant, in a way; the device is powered indefinitely by the mako infused into my blood. And the placement was ingenious! No sane doctor is willing to risk removal; the surgery would certainly be fatal.  
But I was beginning to lose sight of that particular downside; death, at least, would eventually be painless.  
 _*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*_

Cringing, thoroughly spent and curling inward against the bright, I expected torment to resume alongside the piercing screeches, as it had before. I waited.  
My blood, perhaps because of all that mako, never did taste like quite copper; never did seem exactly human in its colour.  
 _Does not matter now! Do...something...while you're able!  
_ With difficulty, I swallowed. I swallowed blood and pushed back the memories of struggling to bite the inside of my cheeks, desperate for any semblance of control; hating the pain, but taking solace in the fact that _I_ could make it stop at any moment.  
I stood.

... ... ...

Nothing happened.

I waited, straightening my posture and trying to stretch the lingering hurt from muscles that still tingled. I stood, attempting to look confident. I wanted to be in control of the situation. I wanted to go home.  
 _But how? First - oxygen. One. Two. Three. Good, now open your eyes.  
_ "Hm," nothing in the room had changed, I could almost breathe.  
 _*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*_

For a moment, the illusion shattered; I could see Kilara, rhythmically swaying side to side as she spoke, and doubtless just as lost to memory as I. Her left hand, balled into a fist, was held tightly to her chest - Kilara's right hand clutched her other at the wrist - a white knuckled, iron grip, as if she was in pain.  
 _What the fuck is going on?_

Her voice still made no sound, and either mine was lost as well, or the girl just _could not_ hear my shouts. I was confused by the way her lips moved, forming words I did not recognize. Kilara's eyes were flickering between the light-less lifeless grey and a deeply violet glow, contrasting eerily against the ashen tone her skin had taken. Whatever it was she saw, and despite her null expression, I feared Kilara's version of this misery was as nightmarish as mine.

Angered by that notion, I concentrated, pooling every ounce of remaining strength together. I forced my deadened limbs - the real ones, I think - to move, to again reach out towards the physical realm.  
 _So fucking close! Just a little further, please!_ I had no evidence to support the theory, but I _knew_ that, somehow, Kilara could help - perhaps was trying to but failing. I _knew_ that we could save each other from the coming v-  
 _*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*_

Another flash revealed the pieces of my shattered memory - a violent, raging storm of sharp and jagged mirror that would crash down and reform, only to be smashed again by some unknown assailant; an epic battle between forces I did not recognize or understand. Shards would fly astray to chase me, faster than even I could dodge, and causing searing pain at every point they touched. I could _feel_ them tear through skin and bone and muscle, but no blood pooled below me, nor did any lacerations manifest.  
Most of the brutal shards flew the opposite direction, though. It appeared that they were chasing something else - a featureless and ghostly form; a little doll, an effigy who seemed to be the source of that destructive siege, was working to disrupt the memory's reformation.  
Instinct warned me not to even _think_ her name while in this strange realm, between memory and certainty.

 _The dead-eyed one is dangerous, we will take her too..._ a new voice, a feminine whisper so faint and soft against the clamour all around that its origin could only be within my mind.  
 _Dangerous? Take? We?_ The questions themselves felt dangerous, though I was not given time to ponder why. The doll fell, skewered by a dozen shards and affixed, quite securely, to the blackness that surrounded us. Seconds later the image was reformed, one of the jagged pieces taking a final, spiteful bite out of the doll before joining the mass that encompassed and surrounded me. I couldn't even begin to speculate on symbolism, let alone meaning, as the world began to spin again.

 _*...eeeeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnn...*  
_ Hojo paced across the room, berating me for _something_ , but I could barely understand him through the high-pitched clamour in my head. The pain and tearing had been my form as I know it in the present, but this scene again portrayed me as a teen - afraid and ashamed of the changes that _pervert_ had forced upon my body.

 _At least the agony is fading now. There has to be some way for me to fight this.  
_ We were back in chamber six, I think, with its centerpiece remaining unidentified and blurry. Whether due to suppressed tears clouding my vision, or the flashback's will, it...it didn't matter. I could taste nothing but blood, smell nothing but chemicals and mako, and certainly could **not** handle this much longer. **Would not** have any willing part in this...whatever it was.

Exhausted, I forced my younger body up, fighting dizziness as I tried again to analyze the situation.  
"What is this? Why am I here and what do you want?" I demanded of the pseudo-Hojo, wondering if we could fast forward to the hallucination's point or lesson.  
The bastard's voice _itself_ was muffled, and between the haze of ringing, pain, and vertigo, I was unable to catch every word. I did not need to, though; what I _did_ hear was too much.

"...know of your impeccable control over that monstrous strength of yours in battle," the illusion sneered. " _*mumble*_ wonder, as you age, if other _stresses_ might be an issue? _*mumble*_...growing boy, it will be best to find out now if hormones will be a problem." His mouth twisted, as if enjoying the mental image, while adding, "Some species of beast will frenzy, killing their _*mumble*_...despite the negative effect on population numbers; you're not that stupid, are you boy?"  
"Wha- what?" I'd wanted to shout, to yell 'what nonsense are you speaking' but I couldn't. Something, deeply internalized and buried, allowed that bastard to intimidate me. To _control_ me. So instead, I merely squeaked, "I do not understand what it is you want from me."  
Phantom Hojo cackled, head back in full guffaw.

I looked again towards that blur in the center of the room, dread adding to the heavy, nauseating weight somewhere near my core as the memory was freed from whatever spell, or desperate need, had locked it. Hojo's laughter had been a special brand of crazed that day, my supposed thirteenth birthday.  
 _Why am I remembering...  
_ _It seemed like time for sharing...and I don't get many opportunities like_ _ **this**_ _!  
_ _NOT YOU - OUT!_

The same confusion and sickness I'd felt back then struck just as real a second time. I heard my young self voice uncertain questions, glancing nervously towards the room's now clearly visible centerpiece.  
 _Please, this needs to stop. I forgot this for a reason. Please. I...I didn't...no. I wasn't, I'm not...  
_ Within this body, but no longer in control of either voice or action, I could only watch, horrified, as the scene played out. It was as if my psyche fought the recollection tooth and nail; everything from sounds to colours fizzled, muted and blurry, but _enough_ remained to paint the picture.  
"Why _*fuzz*_ barely conscious? _*fuzz*..._ abnormal. ...could easily... _*fuzz*_...wanted to." I felt his...my...confusion in the half-heard question, just as I had felt it that first time; only now there was no childish innocence to hide behind.

Angrily sighing, the pseudo-scientist slapped, hard, across my left cheek, adopting a rude and condescending tone. "The _*fuzz*_ side effects _*fuzzzzz*_ ...damage _*fuuuzzz*_ ...if it panics. _*fuzzzz*_ ...so, we must ensure _*fuzzz*_...preserved well enough for incubation. Are you really **that** dense, boy?" The psychotic 'scientist' towered over my younger form, nearly foaming at the mouth. His breath reeked of alcohol again, as it had been more and more often in those days.  
 _Why now? Why...why then, even? Please don't…_ as if suddenly my broken mind might choose obedience, I tried again to beg.  
The memory only sharpened, clarifying details. Clarifying as if it meant to mock me, though it quickly wavered back to dull.

I'd had fan girls even back then, not really understanding why, but relishing the praise and positive attention. That one...she'd loiter near the ShinRa building often, smiling and waving hello at every opportunity. Definitely older than I was, but only by a few years. As with most fan girls, I disliked her; that type would eye me like a piece of meat or as some challenge they might conquer. It was...dehumanizing.  
 _Ah hahahaha! How fucking ironic!  
_ _That is not a proper use of the term; merely a coincidence. Fuck off._

That one - always attempting to touch my person or my hair, and speaking to me in a manner that was not at all appropriate for my age, personal _experiences_ aside. Claudia, I think that was her name; I viewed Claudia as generally a menace, but easy enough to avoid by testing the wind, checking for the scent of cheap perfume and cigarettes.  
In the lab, the girl had smelled of industrial soaps and anesthetic; Hojo eyed her like a piece of meat.  
I remembered short red hair, likely dyed, and more earrings than was normal, even for a female.

Earlier that day I'd seen Hojo approach the girl outside of our main building; I'd thought he was just asking her to leave. But later...the first of _those_ so-called experiments. In either case, she was never seen near ShinRa HQ again, though according to the professor's records the girl is not deceased. As for the test 'results' - the company psychologist had barred my access, and neither Genesis nor Angeal would discuss anything that leaked. That is probably for the best.

"...to it boy! I _*fuzz*_ ...disposable specimens _*fuzzz*..._ not risk even _you_ for certain tests. What? _*fuzzzz*_...clean and perfectly willing!" The fuzzing worsened, and only a few of his final words could be discerned. "...sedated...case you...animal instincts...effects on other subjects...her own good..." A pause, filled with giddy, almost delirious laughter followed. He'd found the idea hilarious, "...assure...can still feel, react...warm...not asking...a cadaver..."

Despite the pain and shocks - literal, physical shocks - when I'd refused, despite that serum's effects and the painful driving _need_ to release that pressure it had caused...still, I'd tried to refuse.  
That electric sound, I remembered feeling it in my _teeth_ , unsure of which sensation was truly worse. I would have done _anything_ to make it stop.  
I _did..._ do anything...to make it stop.  
...he...had to...  
He _gladly_ sat me down to watch 'educational videos' - but all of them had been awake.

Disobedience had never been an option.  
 _STOP! Sick Fuck! I don't want to...didn't want to...I didn't have a choice..._

* * *

At least the vision had been kind enough to end before I caved; did not force me to live _that_ part a second time. The pain persisted, and the memory and self-disgust persisted, I suppose that was its goal. Another sensation seems to have persisted also, but I didn't pay it any mind.

Back in the present, parlour slowly coming into focus, my limbs trembled and my head ached. Whether that was the vision's doing, or how roughly I'd been clenching my jaw and pressing on my temple region, I cannot say for sure.  
In either case, mercifully, the assault was over - the internal one, at least - save for the lingering ring of tinnitus.

Kilara's narration, still delivered automatically and without a trace of feeling or inflection, barely registered in my ears. I was shaken, still trying to forget the lab's astringent scent, when crazed, unsettling laughter shocked me back and fully to attention. It seems the girl had broken, too.  
Inflection returned, in a way, to her strained staccato voice, though I'm not sure if it made the words less disturbing, or moreso. "...ah haha...rewarded!...ah.. haha...but I wasn't. Not me, haha! _I_ was disobedient...kept my memories they tried to take! Even if I did not want...to." Equally disturbing either way, was how quickly she transitioned between defiant assertion, that whimpering admission, and then back again. "But...ahhahha but drugs can fix what violence and lying cannot AHHAhaaaaaaaa," pained sounds that were not laughter, but that were definitely far enough from crying to avoid punishment, followed. I needed her to stop talking. I had changed my mind and did not wish to know the rest.  
I _wanted_ to forget again.

"Can you believe, for a few years...I hahaha...I didn't know ... _*hic*_ Stupid girl! _*hic*_ I'd felt left out! _*hic*_ 'Cuz only good girls, hahaha only good girls get to play; bad girls go to sleep...or else. _*hic*_ But they are bad, they are still awake...hahaha they hear them chat about the game, one says 'out cold, like fucking a corpse'...no, 'like a fucking corpse'...wait HAHA the first one! And AHHAHAnnno...he said 'and I'm no...pervert.'" Between Kilara and the vengeful ghost that was my own mind, I was bombarded by twin echos of divergent and eerily exaggerated laughter - mad and hysterical, those echoes were the perfect soundtrack for my own departure from the realm of sanity.

 _AH HAHAHAHAHAhahaha! So you...what does that make_ _ **you?**_ _...ah hhahahHAHAHAHAHA...she's a useful one, we_ will _have to keep her...  
_ I did not understand what it meant by 'keep' or 'useful,' and didn't need to understand to know that I deserved each and every pang of shame and guilt, feelings overshadowed only by the rage and hatred exploding deep within my chest. I might have ended it all there, had Kilara not swayed into my periphery, whispering as if the story had not ended there. This was not her fault either, but I would _have_ to make her talking stop!  
 _I'd had no choice..._

Between the memories, that accusation, and hearing what that bastard said...did to her and others - no I did not lose _all_ control, I never would. I never _had..._ I think. But definitely an amount of control, much more than I'd ever lost before, evaporated from my being. I...I didn't want to hear anymore. Couldn't. I think I might have even...  
Well, I _hoped_ I'd managed to convey something like 'I'm sorry' before flying angrily towards my guest. I _had_ to make her stop somehow!  
I may have lost some moments, only waking to assess the damage once the girl's disturbing noises were suppressed.

Surprisingly - and I _had_ slowed the leap, trying to hold myself back, trying to maintain control - what the fuck _had_ I done?  
Surprisingly - I'm not sure she _could_ have in the trance-like state - but remarkably the girl did not stab me. She had stopped, that was the important thing. It had stopped and the only current sound was my voice, whispering and shaky over the incessant buzzing that might never cease again, I feared. "Please, stop...shut… Just please no more, and I'm so sorry I didn't mean to bring up… Please do not say anything more. Ssshhhhh...stop...don't speak..."

I didn't want to believe it, didn't even want to _think_ about it - neither my vision, nor Kilara's nauseating, gruesome addition to her own troubled story. There was only so much solace to be found in the idea that, based on what I'd heard, he probably hadn't touched her; there was a dark feeling creeping along the edges of that comfort, wondering what _worse_ consolation had been devised.  
 _How_ _ **about**_ _that little blast from the past anyway? And then there's the matter of yourself, eh? Just look at what you're doing! HAHA! You've always been a fucking mess and monster! C'mon,_ _ **now**_ _can we go end it all?_

I wondered if or how I _didn't_ deserve to be taken out and shot, having pulled Kilara into my arms, one _might_ say protectively, until they saw my hand tight over the girl's mouth.  
 _At least the gloves are in my office, somehow I think they'd make this worse.  
_ Until they felt, as I did, her every muscle stiffen, likely paralyzed with fear.  
"Ssshhhh...I'm sorry. I won't hurt you, just do not tell me any more."  
Until they saw how easily my arm encompassed her; saw my fingers, tracing and counting each protruding rib in some misguided effort to calm us both at once.  
 _I should have fed her hours ago. ... That sounds wrong, I meant...I don't know...  
_ At least I'd had the sense to leave her nose clear for breathing.  
 _So that's the high bar? Didn't suffocate a helpless woman?  
_ I was chanting, trembling; rocking us both back and forth, slowly, like some kind of...  
 _Crazy demon?  
_ "Shhh...please...shh..."  
 _Yes, thank you voice, now go away. This is bad enough already._

"I'm sorry," my apologies would never be enough, but I could not help tightening my hold on Kilara, unable to let go even when my squeeze caused her to grunt in pain. "I'm sorry, I do not wish to harm you. I'm not..."  
 _There can be no self-delusion, that had been a memory, I_ _ **know**_ _this is truth and nothing can change that fact. Fuck. Fucking monster, garbage, fucking puppet!  
_ _Yes. Fucking monster, garbage, fucking puppet!  
_ _But how? I would not put it past that man to abuse mystify or seal...but this is..._

I shook away the thoughts, I would need a long, long time to pick apart their implications, and it was time to face the current problem.  
Ashamed, and _very_ disturbed, I began to pull away from Kilara; so much for promises of safety. Even as I loosened my grip, lowering my arms, the girl remained tense, shaking, but no longer in the trance, I think. She was fumbling with something hanging from a cord around her neck, wincing in pain as she stretched to remove the makeshift necklace.  
"Kilara?" I was unsure where to place my hands, unsure whether I _should_ place them anywhere as they hovered a few inches from the shivering, hyperventilating mess I'd pulled into my lap. "Did I...did I break you? I am...sorry?"  
 _Heh, that fidgeting keeps up and she's not going to be the_ only _mess there, boy._

 _*sigh*  
_ In the same way that the vision's pain had lingered, perceptible to my _real_ senses, the...other...sensation had remained as well. I had been trying to ignore it.  
 _A common physiological reaction, mostly beyond my control; it means nothing.  
_ _C'mon, show her exactly the kind of 'man' you are, heh heh.  
_ Dismissing the suggestion, and accompanying mental image, I shook my head again; I needed to determine what, exactly, had occurred. Did the girl see _that?_ Had she had her own nightmare instead? If so, what could have caused it? Was this just a psychotic break on my part?

 _Enough thinking, boy! Pacify the specimen while it's vulnerable...  
_ Why did my internal voice, the apparent personification of what must be trauma-induced mental instability, suddenly sound so much like Hojo? What had it meant by that?  
 _Specimen_ , the word itself filled me with such a loathing and disgust, I could...

"It's over? Thank you, oh gods, I am sorry. So sorry," her voice and body shook with effort, determined to hold any tears at bay; my anger surged, overshadowing the confusion and self-disgust, with the idea that her 'training' on 'appropriate' emotions had probably been similar to my own. Thankfully, Kilara had interrupted whatever destructive fit I'd been on the verge of launching into.  
 _I'll string his fucking guts across the town. Wait, what? Sorry?  
_ I was not sure I'd heard correctly, the girl's voice was very small against the continued ringing in my ears, and her decision to rearrange herself - now balled up in my lap and having flung both arms around my head to cling - did not help my concentration. I was too tired to resist an urge to grab...embrace the girl, again.

"I..."  
 _Fuck. What the fuck is wrong with me.  
_ My arms remained in place, wrapped tightly around Kilara's torso; I was holding her...holding as if I hadn't just attacked the woman. As if I knew anything about providing comfort. As if either of us had a basis for comparison in the first place.  
But I did have to admit, at least to myself, that the closeness was - it was not unpleasant, and my own nerves were quickly settling down.  
 _Where is my restraint? What on Gaia is happening to me?  
_ I was thoroughly confused. But as long as the girl remained calm, now, discussion could wait until morning. Maybe afternoon. Certainly until after we had both, in very _different_ locations, and _not..._ entangled on this couch, slept.

In either case, and to provide distraction from the episode's lingering discomfort, my mind turned again to the gathering of intel. "Kilara? I am not certain what has just occurred, but I see no reason for your apologies; if you are well, we should try to determine what...what _did_ just happen?" I was done with subtlety, the last question was more of an exasperated sigh than a demand. I felt cruel for jumping straight to interrogation, but...  
 _But you have no idea how to provide comfort, do you?  
_ _No.  
_ In fact, I still wasn't certain where my arms should go, but I felt awful that they remained around the girl. How dare I touch _any_ woman, after...after learning _that._

But speaking of Kilara, her state seemed to be improving and she no longer rambled incoherently, but still was making little sense. "No, I am..." the girl's speech was halted as she struggled both to breathe evenly, and to find certain words it seemed. "That has not happened," _*inhale* *exhale*_ "in years, I am...sorry. I know...must be," _*inhale* *exhale*_ "...disturbing thing to see. I. Please, a pause, to recover?" I agreed, an _anything_ to recover would be useful.

I used the pause to catch up, thinking to myself and trying to make sense of the wholly bizarre situation.  
 _So, this is not a new thing to her? If she...hmm...am I doomed to the same fate, I wonder? How often do the episodes occur, and do they have a trigger that can be avoided? Still, what could ca-  
_ "Mmph," I'd had to bite down quickly, trying to stifle the grunt-  
 _You mean the moan. Don't be such a prude, boy.  
_ _Shut up. Stop referring to me as boy!  
_...to stifle the grunt as Kilara shifted once again, gracing my lingering shame when she'd turned to sit, more across my lap than on it now. I grimaced at my arm, trapped between the girl and the couch; it had moved itself to tighten around her, instinctively when the brush occurred. Sheepishly, I forced my hand to at least remove its grip from the woman's upper thigh, resigned to hold a fist as there seemed no appropriate place to rest an open palm.  
 _Come on! You're a natural predator,_ _ **boy!**_ _And she's_ _ **so**_ _innocent! Probably doesn't even realize what she's doing to you haha!  
_ I hoped, for both her safety and my sanity, she didn't.

And it seemed she _really_ didn't. Kilara appeared oblivious to the near disaster, and it seemed she hadn't noticed what it was that grazed across her-  
 _I don't need to be thinking about what body parts did or did not graze anything.  
_ _heh._

I shook the thoughts away, refocusing on Kilara, who had started to speak again, after pausing at my accidental squeeze. Between the screeching, buzzing drone that had been my companion since this started, and the goading from my lunacy - visual and audible now - I had barely noticed her voice missing from the din.

The hallucination and anger, coupled with Kilara's own episode, had flooded my system with adrenaline. And though some had faded, I was still feeling quite on edge.  
I needed to calm down, assess the situation, and clear my head - as I'd been drilled my entire life to do.  
 _Okay, sad, but not hysterical girl - and_ not _suicidal, I think - sitting in my lap. Legs are off to the side, more in the way I'd originally carried her broken body here than in a straddle, and her head is resting on my shoulder. She has attached herself quite firmly to my neck.  
_ Indeed, the girl's left arm was over my right, her right over my left - locked at the wrists it felt like. And it seemed she had no plans of letting go. Kilara was shaking, but wasn't sobbing, seeming determined to hold all the past's darkness deep inside somewhere.

I would not have faulted the girl for crying, but she did not; it was possible she could not, I knew.  
 _I'll kill the bastard...how_ _ **dare**_ _he...that_ _ **motherfucker!**_ _Now is not the time, though. Breathe.  
_ "Sorry, you were saying?" I mumbled, content to ignore the awkward contact for as long as the girl would let me; hoping I had not missed some important piece of information while centering myself, coming to terms with her chosen placement.

I didn't **not** enjoy Kilara's warmth or scent, I just knew that it was very wrong to do so. But she didn't try to stop me either...  
That all could only do so much, though, and I felt little but confusion.  
 _How is she so small?_ was a coherent thought I recognized, along with the poorly worded need to feed her.  
 _If you can break her, I'll let you keep her as a pet, heh heh.  
_ Among others.

 _Best to not think about it._

* * *

"Please let me stay moment. I am so much tired, so much sorry," Kilara sighed, her still erratic heartbeat thrummed, strong at least, against my arm and chest. The girl had not only attached herself to me, but she had attached some thing to me. That little charm, which I examined, appreciating the distraction while I waited for the troubled girl's composure to return.  
 _Or perhaps for her to realize what I'd almost done...what that_ _ **thing**_ _had made me think about, and end my misery with a dagger to the throat._

That aside, I felt I would risk offending or further saddening my guest if I tried to move her now. I was not certain whether she had asked to stay here, like this, or just here in the building. Either I did not mind - the cacophony in my skull had lessened, had fallen to a level not difficult to ignore, and even the devil's disgusting pictures barely gave me trouble for some moments.  
And it was nice to feel less alone than I had since...since Genesis' departure, since his revelations. Since...ever, perhaps?

Turning the trinket with my free hand, and intrigued by patterns that morphed and shifted with the angle of the light, I rifled through memories and lessons on the topic of geology. There were two distinct stone types in the piece, and their arrangement was utilitarian and geometric. At first, the shape seemed to be abstract, but as I turned it to reveal one jagged edge, I could imagine what must have been the charm's original design.

I believe it was a star, set within a copper circle, but the whole pieced had broken in half at some point. And the stones: the main body and at least one point had to be white opal; I knew of nothing else that could appear so luminescent from within. The remaining intact triangular segment, though, was something different. It shared the same eerie inner rainbow glow, but the stone itself was as black as night.  
 _As black as your soul, perhaps?  
_ _Shut up, you said I didn't have a soul, remember? I am busy.  
_ _I am running out of patience!_

Shaking off the rude interruption, and trying not to focus on the desperation I'd perceived in the voice's growl, I tried to remember. Black opal was a stone I'd heard of, but it was supposedly extremely rare; even I had experienced it in pictures only. Kilara was certainly undernourished, and though she wasn't dirty, her shoes and original outfit had been well worn and obviously repaired by hand.  
 _Why do you not sell this? Even broken, I'm sure the stone itself could provide a decent sum of gil?_

Most intriguing, though, was the charm's craftsmanship. Had it been whole, I would have assumed the copper pieces surrounding the star created pressure, which then held the different stones together; I could see no sign of glue or other materials, and there was barely a seam between the two stones. This, and the remaining section, incomplete as it was, did not feel flimsy at all, despite missing an assumed three of those supporting pieces.

 _What are you? Who are you?_ I thought, mind wandering and somewhat hazed as Kilara's breathing evened out...as she relaxed _into_ me, as if somehow _I_ was comfortable.  
 _She's warm again, and quickly, I hope it's not a fever...  
_ Of the growing list of questions, and further muddled by a growing urge to pet - to _pet!_ \- the girl nesting in my lap, one stood out as especially significant, for reasons I could not comprehend. "Why did you place this on my person?"  
 _Real smooth kid, heh. Way to sound grateful for a gift, I'd almost think you didn't want her here.  
_ _I don't...well, I don't not want...but not like...fuck you! I don't need to explain myself to you!_

The phantom cackled as Kilara began to shift again, trying to goad me into trying out some twisted fantasy, one that could _not_ have originated in my own subconscious, I hoped.  
 _Absolutely_ _ **not!**_ _I wasn't touching her like that, and she'd jumped into_ _ **my**_ _lap.  
_ This was about comfort, nothing else.  
I had made a promise.

The girl, obviously exhausted, lifted her head and was looking much healthier, save for one odd symptom - her eyes were blinking far more often than was normal. I cursed myself for the question's tone and phrasing; Kilara made no attempt to meet my eyes when she finally answered, choosing to gaze into the couch behind my head instead. "The broken star? I thought..."  
 _Fuck. I hadn't meant to make her sad.  
_ _Heh...there's still a chance for 'happy endings' eh hehe...  
_ I shivered, could almost _feel_ the entity's breath tickling my neck as it whispered, _mmmhmhmhm...she's...extremely vulnerable right now. I can_ feel _it._

"...but it is still so loud," I'd missed Kilara's meaning, catching only that cryptically whispered afterthought once I'd forced my attention back to reality. That slimy voice and its insinuations had actually shaken me this time. _**Me!  
**_ "I'm sorry miss Kilara, what was that again? I do not dislike the charm, I am just...confused."  
 _So loud?  
_ I could not imagine that she also heard the whispering, crackling, buzzing storm that had been gnawing at my sanity since this all began. I felt ridiculous for even considering the possibility.  
I felt annoyed, perhaps even concerned, that I'd begun to grow accustomed to the racket.

"Oh?" Kilara shook her head, eyes returning from that far away place she'd slipped. Though I was relieved to see a tiny smile forming, a part me was hurt that the woman - so brazen earlier - seemed determined to avoid even the slightest hint of eye contact, and for no discernible reason; surely she was not so easily offended. "It does not matter what I thought," her voice was cheerful, but with an edge; the girl was obviously suppressing strong emotions.

"It is a gift for you, for pulling me from the nightmare. For not leaving me to..." Kilara stopped, staring into nothing, and I worried she might be lost again. "I am sorry," still blinking far too often, the girl managed to remain composed, but the music of her voice grew solemn. "That has not happened in many years, and I am told it can be very much disturbing for one to watch or listen to. Many would have left me to suffer the full duration...which is far too long. Truly, thank you."

"What was that, anyway?" I ventured, taking advantage of Kilara's pause not only to ask, but to try to ascertain her current level of lucidity.  
"I was stupid, to antagonize old ghosts like that," the small chuckle and its bounce reminded me of _other_ problems for a moment, and I risked shifting the girl, winning a precious few inches of clearance. "I am sorry again, it was - it is so much to carry, and I wondered, if someone else had survived...but...it was different. Well, that does not matter now. You pulled me out, thank you; I never meant to share the burden...I just...it almost seemed like...I felt..."

 _A fuckin' roller coaster isn't she? Yeah, don't think I didn't notice, hah!  
_ My broken psyche's growing 'separation' - as if it truly was an _it,_ and not a part of me - was an increasingly disturbing trend. But, the it or me was not wrong, either. Every time the girl had paused like this, eyes far away and somehow flickering across the grey to ultraviolet spectrum, my own heart would skip a beat; that cold and dreadful ball would reform somewhere in my core.  
Just as when she'd snap back to the present, trying so desperately to be cheery, the pit would fade, and I could almost sigh out loud as relief swept through my body. The time in between, waiting for that release, that was fucking torture.

 _Maybe it is just exhaustion,_ I told myself, noting that the woman's grip around my upper body hadn't faltered yet. It was only then I noticed the beginnings of a bruise - _many_ bruises - darkening on the girl's unusually porcelain skin. My mind went back to the doll, the short respite from the vision's worst, as whatever ghosts or demons warring within my skull had turned their attentions elsewhere for a time.  
 _That wasn't...couldn't have been...right? Stupid girl..._

That worry, a growing ache that seemed to weigh down my lungs and chest, only added more frustration; I had no reason to care if the woman faded out of consciousness - for a second or forever. So we shared similar backgrounds, so what? I did not _know_ her. And even if I did, I am _Sephiroth,_ ShinRa's Angel of Death! Hundreds, maybe thousands have fallen to my sword, and I've watched just as many of my own men fall. Never has the price of war upset me - I do _not_ feel loss, I deliver that feeling to others!  
 _How_ _ **dare**_ _you risk yourself for me!  
_ _Pffft! You just don't want to deal with the kid up there when he finds her body. Don't worry so much.  
_ The thought was strangely reaffirming, reminding me that I was - should always be - in control of the situation, making assessments and decisions, not fretting dammit!  
 _Stupid boy, I meant I'll handle it! Strike now! I don't want her escaping!  
_ _ENOUGH! Cease your babbling, demon!  
_ _I will not let you fuck up this opportunity, boy!_

* * *

"You need to come back now, Kilara. Wake up this instant and at once!" none would dare defy GFC Sephiroth, not when issued a direct command. To punctuate the urgency I'd unhooked Kilara's arms, returning them to her sides, as I gently shook her by the shoulders.  
 _*zzzzzzzzzzzzz_ _ **zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz**_ _ZZZ*_

 _How the fuck has that not gone away! I have_ _ **no**_ _interest - perhaps never will - after living that damn experiment again!  
_ The shaking had been a mistake; was leading to an over-stimulation that seemed to worsen the continuing racket that plagued my ears. And with the increase in ringing, buzzing turmoil came a heavy numbness in my arms. My arms, that I could not seem to move or stop from doing so; I could barely even fucking see again, seething at the treacherous body as it defied my every order.  
 _*zzzzzzzzzzzzz_ _ **zzzzzzZZZZZZZ**_ _ZZZ*_

Sometime between losing control, when I'd forced the girl into a proper straddle on my lap, and waking up to feel my teeth... _oh Gaia, it felt soooo good!  
_ I fought every instinct to bite as they lightly scraped along her well-defined collar.  
Sometime between those two events, Kilara must have returned to consciousness. "Seh-" I heard her pause, stopping for breath between each syllable. "...fea- _*breathe* -_ roth...resist a not-much-longer, please. I am sorry...I made a poor assumption..."

 _Resist? Thank Gaia! She knows this isn't me!  
_ _Or she just wants to take it nice and slow...heh  
_ _*zzzzzzzzzzzzz_ _ **zzzzzzZZZZZZZ**_ _ZZZ*_

No, she knew - I knew she knew! But the stupid girl let my arms pull her even closer, not fighting at all, save for grasping my left hand into hers; fuck her hands were suddenly so cold! I did not have control, though, and could not help to move even that small part in the direction that she wished me to. The girl was fucking strong, especially for her size, but the struggle would be futile, I knew. My own battle, to actually direct my own body and its movements - it's not so much to ask, is it?! - my own struggles were just as insufficient.  
 _*zzzzzzzzzzzzz_ _ **zzzzzzZZZZZZZ**_ _ZZZ*_

I was growing desperate, crazy...I might have started laughing, channeling any mantra that might keep me sane for just a few more seconds. Eyes that felt nothing like my own, pupils that I knew constricted like predatory snake's just before it struck, _that fucking demon's_ eyes lingered on the darkening blotches around Kilara's neck and shoulder.  
 _Hungry?  
_ _*zzzzzzzzzzzzz_ ** _zzzzzzZZZZZZZ_** _ZZZ*  
_

 _Clavicle...yes..._ that it was my tongue, tracing along the memorized anatomy, was probably not ideal, and was certainly not my choice. I cannot blame my pleasure, not the bulk of it anyway, on any monster but myself, though...the girl did something to me. But this was _stolen_ self-control, not lost; I did not _want_ to be enjoying those despicable actions.  
 _Suprasternal notch...mmm...trachea...  
_ But I was enjoying them, at least a little. I was also hating myself more with every moment, though.

 _That's it boy, I think you finally broke her! Perfect!  
_ _No. Please not like this.  
_ Not that begging changed the situation; I could hear the change, the victory as Kilara quietly moaned my name...the first two syllables anyway. I could _feel_ her body give, allowing that _thing_ to use _my_ hands to direct her movements at its pleasure. "Oh No-uhhn-" I thought it was over when her fingers started moving, dancing through my hair as if she had no idea what the move would do to me; not stopping even when she realized exactly what it did to me.

 _She's been teasing you all night! About time the bitch relented!  
_ _It's wrong, STOP! Gaia but it's been so long, since I felt warm...or nice...or soft...  
_ _Or this fucking hard, amirite?  
_ _ **Still**_ _an involuntary physical reaction.  
_ _Mmmhh. And the rest? Head back, chewing your bottom lip and moaning like some HoneyBee slut? That involuntary too?  
_ Gaia, she was just so comfortable...not like, not like a piece of clothing. I did NOT want to wear her! Just-fuck! I don't know, what _was_ I doing?

What was _she_ doing? During the distraction, Kilara had maneuvered my hand over the charm, holding it in place below her own. I was still suckling at her neck, fighting the urge to bite-  
 _To tear her fucking throat out - it's too late, you've had your fun! DO IT!  
_ -in fucking ecstasy despite the gruesome compulsion, wondering why the apparition didn't just do the thing himself.

"You will look to me now," Kilara's voice had shifted tone, using her surprising strength to pull my mouth away, forcing my head into a position that placed her forehead inches from my own. "Open your eyes, you will do this now." And her voice, it was _strong_ , commanding and powerful and oh-so-fucking sexy! I wanted to listen, but - but fuck! No woman's ever dared to speak to me in such a way! I had to disobey; I needed to hear more!  
"Silver one, you will do this now. Eyes." No panic, no fear, just...perfect. In control.

Eyes still closed and moaning-groaning-whimpering because I _still_ was not inside of her, I shamelessly pulled Kilara down, trying desperately to merge us despite the clothing in my way. It wasn't just him, was not _it_...it was me... **I** _wanted_... **I** _coveted_.  
I...was in control again. Or, at least, my hormones were; I would take them over that disgraceful apparition any day.  
 _Clever. Fucking. Girl._

"Fffuu-" _*zzZZZZZZZZZZZZ_ _ **ZZZZZZZZZZZ*  
**_ The entity must have been afraid. That pure, unadulterated sense of pleasure began to feel disgusting, corrupted as the orders and images were forced into my mental sphere. I felt impulses that were so hideous and disgraceful - so _unlike me_ that I had no choice but to resist, to succeed in regaining full command over my body. Monstrous freak or not, I would _never_ allow such atrocities to be committed by my hands!

 _How can I defeat a thing like this?_ I wondered, snapping back into control, and determined **not** to allow that other self to chide me into acting out the twisted scenes. That was not me and I knew, _swore_ the thoughts were not my own! I may be some sort of abomination, but I would die before allowing myself to sink to such a level of depravity!

* * *

Ten years old, I had been _ten_ during my first mission to Wutai. A child still when I'd first fought, and was victorious in, a true wartime battle; still a child when, at twelve, I was commanding my own battalion. I've learned to block those scenes - the fires and limbs and blood and gore; I've learned to deafen myself to the haunted screams of dying men and the echoed tears of widowed women. And I would take them all back, gladly; I would watch those memories endlessly repeat, to forget what the evil within me - what the evil that probably _was_ me - conjured in those moments. The war's worst paled in comparison.

It would not let me turn away, but in the effort to hold my attention on the horror, he or I or it had at least stopped trying to molest Kilara. I still felt her - _OH Gaia did I feel_ _ **her -**_ No! Not warming the region between my legs-  
 _Fuck she feels so good, pants or not I can tell she's fucking soaked...I won't hold out much longer...  
_ _That's right, you won't! Fucking Do Something Boy!_

Again, the entity sabotaged itself, interrupting any actions I might've taken of my own volition, and reminding me I'd vowed to disobey its every wish. It was Kilara's _hands_ I'd felt, the one forcing my head still, and the other - on my chest and so cold atop my own. And, there was something else as well...  
 _What was...? EYES!_

Lids snapped open; my full awareness was trapped almost immediately by Kilara's intense, resolute expression. Though her eyes were startling - one glowing violet like some UV party light, the other half closed, dead and grey, a part of me still wanted, still admired her; another part was concerned for the girl's health. That part shrank, though, as I watched Kilara smirk, live eye glinting in a way that meant I'd caught that _exact_ and perfect moment when she confirmed her plan - whatever that plan was - would work.

"That one always celebrates too early. I'm...I'm sorry...so sorry..." the whisper morphed into a chant, words I didn't understand, but that I could _feel_ had power. ".e'au ca nonsku .i do na catra mi" as the words repeated, I could feel the charm begin to tingle; I could feel _everything_ begin to tingle. Her eyes were only an inch or so from mine, lips close enough to taste, but I could not look away, knew I _should_ not interrupt the spell by leaning in to kiss her; did not know how I managed to resist.  
Things happened rather quickly after that.

 _Bitch! You hear that crazy nonsense, boy! If we didn't need the body back I'd...#$%^ &! _the voice was enraged.  
I felt _amazing!_ "Oh, I Kilahuhnnn...fuck whatdidyouyeUHNn..."  
 _*pant*  
_ I didn't-  
 _*gasp*  
_ It was not what you think; this was a different warmth I felt, spreading outward from my chest. I would never, not after seeing those vile images and memories. I'm not a-  
 _*pant*  
_ But I might have clasped my arms around Kilara, tightly crushing the slight, again trembling body as close into my own as possible. I might have made some questionable noises. My hips _might_ have bucked a time or two.  
 _Useless fucking boy! I should have never let you-..._

 _*pant*  
_ That may have been the scene, but this was a different relief, and a _very_ different release. In fact, as the voice and sounds and cacophony's screeching torment faded, so did the troublesome discomfort below my waist; my pants remained unsoiled, of this I am certain.

 _*purr*  
_ A man is no less of one for purring, not under circumstances such as _that._ Not when a hand, slight and moving slowly, alternated between dancing through that man's hair and massaging his aching, yet recuperating, head.

As the silence wrapped around us like a warm and comforting blanket, I began to wonder if the apparition hadn't _caused_ that awkward problem, perhaps hoping for a different ending. It seemed to have some influence over my body, and I again began to worry that the madness had some goal beyond my suffering alone.  
At least, for as much as I could think clearly at the time.

And speaking of the _silence!_ So abrupt a change was disorienting itself, and for a few moments I sat still, gulping air and basking in the noiseless room. That screaming, buzzing, yelling from the other in my skull - it was not until the jarring clamour ceased that I understood just how thunderously loud those disturbances had been.  
And that not even a lingering ring nor echo remained... _that_ was fucking beautiful!

But, I see how things might be misinterpreted. And a familiar shame was creeping through the edges of my momentary glow, eating at my sense of true contentment; insisting I'd done something wrong. Wondering what Strife might have seen or heard, what he might think, with proper context absent.  
For the moment, though, I did not care.  
I … I held Kilara, who had collapsed onto my chest. Her breath came rhythmically and strong, and her heart was beating normally again. She was smiling.  
I ... I enjoyed that feeling.  
I swear that enjoyment was not sexual in any way. For once.  
It was a new sensation, and I made a note to explore it further later; almost I felt...human, for a moment.

Sometime during the excitement, as the torturous thoughts had been receding, I'd felt a change - it is quite difficult to explain. I'd felt - still in that moment felt - sheltered, somehow, from that 'other' - from that darkness. Swaddled in a mental blanket. Safe.  
 _I'm going to sleep for days after this,_ I thought, inhaling deeply once more, and finding peace despite the inappropriate physical arrangement.

"Thank you." I could not begin to guess the details or the method, but I knew Kilara did or was doing something; helping in some way. At this point, I was beyond caring for the puzzle or its answer; I only wished to remain lucid and myself.  
"Kilara?" I asked some few minutes later, when no response had come. "Kilara," I tried again, firmly and with a gentle shake, "can you hear me?" The girl was certainly alive, but also listless.

"I'm sorry, please let me stay a while longer." Again the girl had brought me to the edge of fear - a fear I still didn't understand - and again her response granted me a blessed comfort and relief. Again, Kilara was fixated on apology. "Please, I wish to enjoy the nice and quiet, just a little longer," she rearranged her legs, an action that caused me to feel a pang of guilt. "Angel...I will try to help you, I am sorry. Keep the piece of star for now. It is best to not remove this thing."

I assumed Kilara meant the charm, and I had no plans to take it off; the warmth and feeling of protection was still strong, radiating from where the stones rested on my chest. "She wishes to take us both now..."  
"Huh?" _What?  
_ Kilara giggled, exhausted and, I assume, rambling again - her words made little sense. "Hehe the Starbreaker... but she's tired now. I'm too tired too...but supposed...to fix it...soon...hehe...Seh-fea-roth...your name reminds me of the desert...nice things are there..."  
Rhythmically tapping the amulet that still felt warm against my chest, Kilara sighed, again offering senseless and quite needless apologies. "I thought, because of that you could...anyway I am sorry, would not have waited. Tiring things, you know this yes? It's okay though, angel. I won't let her or the minion take...you."

Just as I though to myself, _okay, that's enough - it is time to sleep,_ Kilara strengthened her cling, sounding only slightly more lucid than before. "Please don't make me go yet, it cost a lot...I'm sorry...I know...you know...I'm sorry. If you would let me stay...just until the pain is gone..."

* * *

 _Fuck it_ , I decided, shifting slightly to ensure we both were comfortable. I would throw my hands in the air and just 'enjoy the nice and quiet' for a while. It would be a much needed break from things and thoughts and...other things and other thoughts.  
 _But...  
_ "Can I help, or get you something? What kind of pain?" Kilara had relaxed, mostly, but I still felt the occasional twinge, apparently discomfort. I wasn't entirely certain, though, that the ailment was physical, save for those awful bruises. Those were agonizing for _me_ to view, I cannot imagine how they affected her. "I could heal these," I offered, resisting the urge to touch or even trace along her martyr's marks.

 _Why? Not just why, but_ _ **why?**_ _How?  
_ "No, angel...just...this is help...I'm sorry, thank you. It is better not alone, last time...no one pulled me out last time, thank you. I will explain sometime, in some less tired times." She sighed, sounding peaceful, and though I did not understand how or why the girl was gaining _comfort_ by staying so close to me, at least she was calm and mostly healthy. I would do my best to not upset things.  
In truth, I was not _that_ uncomfortable, either.

 _Hmmm...she smells sweet, like...oranges; what is that?_ I wondered to myself, seeking a safe point to focus my attentions. It did not seem right to interrogate Kilara further, not when she was so worn out - exhausted and probably traumatized, though she did not seem the latter at the moment.  
My head has found its way onto her shoulder, and I wondered if nuzzling - nuzzling! another first for me - wondered if that action was approaching unacceptable or unsafe. But it did not feel as wrong this time, and I had no hidden motives.

 _This is...nice.  
_ That scent was certainly not perfume - no alcohol or biting astringency - and not like any of the soaps I knew were in the guest washroom. This was a new distraction and a welcome puzzle to dissect.  
Also one solved all too quickly, once I thought it out; I'd almost missed the correlation with her ramblings.

There was, I remembered, a dish I'd sampled in...it doesn't matter where, some foreign desert town. The locals were known for distilling orange blossoms, boiling the petals and collecting oil from the steam; that leftover liquid they called blossom water, and it was usually sold alongside the oils. I had spent a fair amount of time listening to the townsfolk discuss various ways in which the water could be used in flavouring this or that dish, but never had they mentioned _this_ specific application.  
And I have seen the ingredient around - it is _much_ less expensive than perfume, and did not burn or make my eyes water, as most strong or artificial scents tend to. I would bet Kilara's senses are overly sensitive in a manner similar to my own.  
 _...clever girl..._

 _Need to stop myself from thinking again.  
_ It was decided at that moment that I should just...concentrate on breathing, and ensuring my...guest...continued to do so. I emptied my mind, as well as I could anyway, pleased to find the action suddenly very easy; much easier than it had been since the reactor and what I'd learned there.  
 _Is she...still helping...somehow? I've never heard or such a thing but...hmm...but I do not care at the moment. Please, anything that's out there, please let this respite last._

* * *

As I worked towards meditation, that sense of shelter and...there is no way _right_ could have been the word. But it was.  
That feeling of something _right_...but no, much more subtle.  
This wasn't an addition; it felt more like I'd been missing this sensation from the start, and was now restored - repaired.  
I began to wonder if this was how normal people felt when they were happy.  
 _Am I...happy?_ I wondered, hesitant and dreading the answer.  
 _*breathe*  
_ Certainly I was pleased when no cruel retort rang in my mind. _That_ made me feel happy.

I am not sure how long we sat in that awkward, yet so comfortable, position. Not long enough, truly, but every second I was allowed to have that sense of contentment was a blessing.  
 _Thank you?  
_ An odd thought, I realized - wasn't I supposed to be the one who had saved her.  
That didn't matter, either.

We may have slept, both exhausted from the the day's trials and tribulations. I do not know; I had lost myself for a time in the bliss that was _this,_ whatever 'this' was. And time has always passed a bit strangely in that mansion, and in truth, the timing is irrelevant; however long we stayed, it was time well spent for both of us, I think.

Eventually though, as nothing good can last, I'm guessing we both heard cadet Strife, awake and stirring up the stairs. I loosened my grip, as did she.  
It hurt, somehow, when Kilara didn't - or _wouldn't_ look at me - into my eyes again, even though her head remained on my arm, breath tickling in an even, comforting manner. Whenever I would try to turn, the girl's lids would close, or bury themselves deeper into my shoulder.  
 _What have I done, keeping her here like this?_ I wondered. _I should have placed her in the guestroom long ago and protests aside._

 _I'm a monster,_ I thought, dropping my arms to set Kilara free. That erection, and the things that happened with it, _still_ haunted the back of my conscience. Possessed or not, there had been NO excuse for what I'd done or how I'd acted.  
 _I'm sorry. Please, be here when I wake up...if I do...  
_ "Thank you, angel...I feel like I could sleep now." She'd said that word again, angel, after finally lifting up her head a bit; gaze still well averted.

I hadn't voiced that that wish aloud, had I?  
 _No...  
_ And still, I expected a dagger in the throat, for the way I'd put my hands on her like that. I knew she'd felt...felt exactly what brand of monstrous I was, pressing up against her - trying to press _into_ her.  
But nothing like a dagger happened.

Kilara's hand ran gingerly from the crown of my head, down to my cheek, before finally - reluctantly - the woman would look at me again. "The star, even it cannot stop what's coming. Please, forgive me, if I cannot promise things will be okay." The girl's eyes... _fuck_...there was so much in just that single look...  
 _What's coming...? If?  
_ I did not have time to ask or analyze; with that unfathomable look, the girl was gone. Up the stairs - at least carrying the water I'd brought her earlier - before I... _before_ _ **I**_...could react.  
 _Had she even been down here in the first place? What was...? Maybe I've been dreaming._

Returning from the haze again, but at least a pleasant haze this time, I retreated to my bedroom. Cloud had not left yet, I assumed, as I had not heard him leave, and I knew that I should see the boy off after asking so much of him. I was just about to knock when he opened the door, wearing a look I couldn't read - not at that moment anyway. For some reason I felt like I'd _just_ missed a crucial detail, but what that detail could be remained elusive, and in truth I hadn't the energy to care.

"Si...Sir?" the short man sputtered, nervous for no reason I could imagine or understand.  
 _He was probably on his way to the facilities,_ I told myself, _and hadn't expected to run into you. He's probably intimidated because he did almost run into you, literally. Hmm...decent reflexes, I'll have to remember that.  
_ I gave the cadet a moment to gather his wits, then began what I hoped would be a short and simple conversation. "Apologies, I...could not sleep; am just now trying - do you need anything for the trip? And have you heard from Zachary?"  
"Zack called not long ago sir, he's fine and will meet me with a vehicle. Speaking of, if you need to make a call...?" his reply trailed off.  
 _ ***fuck***_

Strife seemed...subdued, and _he_ had trouble meeting my eyes as well. Maybe the cadet had finally digested all of the information gleaned today...yesterday? Maybe he'd finally realized what I was. Maybe he'd even heard some things.  
I knew I could not change any of those situations, and was _myself_ hardly certain whether I deserved defense in either case.  
That, and the thought of dealing with Lazard in my current state, must have shown in my expression; I barely had the energy to stand, let alone hold my trademark stoic mask in place. I could feel my eyelids drooping as, exhausted, I realized that the oversight would have to be corrected. "Yes, umm...yes...we decided to use your...ummm"  
 _Wake up SOLDIER! What is that thing, you speak into it...p-someting? ...PHS?_

"I can take care of it sir - if you want to get some rest." The kid was giving me an easy out, itching just as much as I to end the conversation, it would seem. Any other time, I might have fought harder against the fatigue, and would have fulfilled the obligation...but not this time, no.  
"Thank you, soldier. Goodnight." I nodded before spinning on my heal and walking, as briskly as my tired legs would allow, to the room that held my bed. Almost, I didn't catch the boy's reply.  
"I hope so, sir."  
 _ ***?***_

Yes, something about the exchange did seem _very_ odd, but...but I was far too drained to analyze it. Time skewed, and the next thing I felt was my head on the pillow, followed immediately by blissful nothing.

* * *

Cloud slowly closed the wooden door, but didn't let it fully latch; he didn't want to cause a racket if the old thing decided to stick. He also wasn't quite ready to leave the room again, deciding to take a minute to try to catch his breath; to try to work his courage back up, too.  
The cadet _had_ been ready to go talk to Kilara, he _had_ been ready to ask her why it looked like she was covered in bruises. Cloud had been returning from the restroom when she'd run past him in the hall, and the boy hoped that what he thought he'd seen was just the lighting or his imagination. Cloud _had_ been ready to go confirm she was OK.

What the young man _had not_ been ready for, when he'd finally worked up the nerve to find Kilara, was the Silver General himself, looking very haggard. Cloud had also _not_ been ready to find Sephiroth's bare chest at eye-level, and sporting bruises the boy knew had not existed when they were working in the office.  
 _Wow, the general looks awful - I've seen the man go days without sleep, without even a hint of under-eye bags. And I could have sworn his hair has never looked so...so not perfect._

Cloud knew he wasn't the sharpest crayon in the box, but even _he_ knew that something wasn't right, especially if what he'd seen earlier...especially if the girl really did...  
 _Oh Sephiroth,_ the cadet sighed, shaking his head and trying as hard as he could to think of any other explanation for the troubling coincidence. _Dammit! I thought_ _ **you**_ _were above that! I've always thought...of you as a hero._

Shaking his head, shaking out unruly spikes and hoping to shake away his uncertainty and concern, the blonde spent a few minutes pacing the room in silence before stopping to face the mirror hanging on the closet door. His friend Zack had told him about this trick - talking yourself up in front of a mirror - he'd said it worked for building courage.  
 _And goddess knows I could use more of that,_ Cloud thought, wondering where to start with his mirror-self. "Okay, so...I could still be wrong, right? I mean, there could be a hundred explanations that I'm not thinking of, maybe because my brain won't stop sticking to this one, right?"

The mirror didn't answer, but Cloud had thought of something; maybe explaining it to himself would help. "People who do that, it's because they enjoy it, right?" The reflection nodded as the cadet found he couldn't think of any argument against his reasoning. "Okay, so...Sephiroth looked anything but victorious, he didn't even look that happy, at least as far as he ever looks _anything_. And wouldn't the...err Miss Kilara _not_ want to stick around if something happened? So it's probably nothing, right?"

Mirror-Cloud crossed his arms as the cadet gave himself a stern, sober look. "Yeah, I know," he said to himself, arms dropping again. "I have to go check, just to be sure everything's okay. It'll bother me forever if I don't, and...yeah and it's the right thing to do. It never hurts to check on people, and I can make sure she doesn't need any other medicine or food or something. Yeah, that's all."

 _But, what if she's trying to sleep? What if I just end up bothering her or something? What if, Gaia forbid, I'm right and I have to...try to comfort her or something?  
_ Cloud returned to pacing for a while, but could not come up with an excuse to ignore the possible problem. Not one that would leave him with a clean conscience, if the worst was true, anyway. After one more reflected pep-talk, where he'd told himself things like: _this is what a hero would do; heck it's what any decent person would;_ and _better safe than sorry,_ the cadet was feeling better. "All right, time to bite the music!"  
 _I meant_ _ **face**_ _the music!_ he groaned, watching his mirror-self slap an embarrassed palm to its forehead as he did the same. _I guess idioms aren't my thing either...*sigh* I'm going to need some kind of trademark shtick, but I guess I should concentrate on that 'become a hero' thing, first._

* * *

"Umm, ma'am? Are you awake?" Cloud was pretty sure Sephiroth would be asleep by now, but he still whispered; he definitely didn't want to explain to the general why he was tip-toeing around and bothering his 'guest' this late at night.  
 _You can do this Cloud, you're just making sure to...to make sure. It's the right thing to do...it is. I'm glad she fought back, if that's what...I mean there's a chance you don't have all the facts, don't worry._

"I am still awake, yes. Come in, if you wish to speak with me and not the door," Kilara's voice sounded normal enough, and she didn't seem traumatized, just kind of tired. Cloud stepped into the room, hesitating as he tried to decide whether to close the door again for privacy, or to leave it open to show he had good intentions. Luckily, the girl solved the puzzle for him.

"Closed, please. I have the window open, and it is somewhat chilly," she was leaning on the windowsill on the far wall of the room, back to Cloud, but not seeming unfriendly. From that angle, though, he could not tell whether or not she really was all bruised up. "And please, Kilara, haha. Ma'am doesn't quite fit me very well, I think. Is there something you needed?"

"Umm...yeah..." the boy was quickly losing confidence, and felt silly for bothering her at all.  
 _But, I can't tell from here and...and I'll probably never forgive myself if something did happen, or if something worse does once I'm gone. She'll be alone with him...  
_ The thought seemed to bolster Cloud a little, and managed to force out a few phrases that, kind of, made his point. "Sorry to bother you miss, er...Kilara," the boy stammered, staring at the floor and trying not to blush. "I just...well I know you're an adult, I think, and you can do whatever you want but. I mean, just in case, I thought I saw..."  
 _Come on! Spit it up...out!_ The cadet managed to lift his eyes enough to see that Kilara had turned her head to give him a curious look, but not enough for him to _see_.  
"Anyway, I know we all laugh at 'the general gets what the general wants' but, I mean if - he's not above justice just because of who he is, you know. If he did anything-"

Kilara cocked her head further to the side, confused; Cloud felt even more nervous than before, and was completely disarmed by how calm the girl was.  
 _Too calm? Naah...  
_ He hadn't really _wanted_ to have to comfort her or something...but he'd still expected _something_ to be wrong. "Anyway," the blonde ran a hand through dishevelled spikes, cursing the hours he'd kept his helmet on while trying to hide from Tifa. "I guess I just wanted to make sure you're all right. I'm headed back to Midgar in a few hours, but Sephiroth will still be here for probably a few days. Are you sure you don't need...anything?"

Kilara sighed, turning to gaze back out the open window, into the sky it looked like. "Hmm...if you don't mind my asking, do you know how our calendar works? I'm just curious."  
"The calendar?" he asked, confused. It seemed like Kilara might actually want to talk about something, and the cadet could understand not just blurting things out like he had.  
 _Anyway, I guess I don't want to upset her so...I'll let_ _ **her**_ _tell_ _ **me**_ _...when she's ready, right?  
_ "I think so, I mean I've never really thought about it, I guess," Cloud tried to figure out if the woman was eccentric, or might have meant something else, but the question didn't really make sense. "Everyone knows how to use a calendar, don't they?"

"Haha, yes, in a way." The longer Kilara _didn't_ turn around, the more worried Cloud grew. She was laughing a lot for someone whose best friend, or something like it, had just died.  
 _Maybe it's nothing, maybe she's not deliberately hiding her neck and arms,_ he tried to reassure himself.  
"Of course everyone can _use_ the calendar, but you might be surprised how few consider how it works. Have you ever thought about _why_ the year is 'two' - surely the planet is older than that, yes? _We_ certainly are older."  
Cloud moved to a chair in the corner of the room, to sit; the question was kind of interesting, and maybe she'd feel comfortable to find a place to sit as well. "That's easy, it was the..."  
 _Okay I haven't actually thought about this, I guess..._

"It is okay," Kilara's voice was kind, and she shifted, but still wasn't budging from the window. "Much more that that has been lost to time. Every two-thousand years, a new symbol is used to define the era. Nu, which is what we call the current symbol, is the thirteenth symbol in an alphabet that is as old as the planet itself." She sighed, adding quietly, "It was originally _my_ people's alphabet."

"Wow...does that mean," Cloud was dumbfounded, not only did those little symbols on the calendar mean something, but - at least if anything Sephiroth had been rambling about in the mansion library was true - it also _had_ to mean, "you're one of the Cetra?" The boy immediately regretted asking.

"No!" Every muscle in Kilara's body tensed, and the venom in that single word was almost enough to frighten Cloud straight back to Midgar without ever finding out if the girl was safe or not. "The _Cetra_ ," she continued, so bitter the boy wouldn't have flinched if she spat after every mention of the ancients. "stole our home. The _Cetra_ thought us savages, brutal and archaic in our ways; the _Cetra_ would still have been welcome to stay and integrate their culture into ours. But no, the _Cetra_ instead sought to take us over, to destroy us; and that they almost did. Do you know, little one, what happens to gods when the people stop - or are prevented from - speaking to them?"

The girl had paused, still facing away, but now she gripped the windowsill, rather than leaning her arms on it. Cloud could almost see dark marks along her arms, but it was so dark he couldn't be sure the colour wasn't shadows. "Umm...no, I don't, I guess," he answered, a little worried by Kilara's sudden anger.  
 _But wasn't Jenova...Sephiroth...is that what happened, maybe?_

"They leave. They leave or die or both." Kilara fell silent, seething and staring out into the night.  
 _Is she staring in the reactor's direction for a reason, or is it just coincidence?_ Cloud thought, not quite sure what to say to make the woman less angry. He was just about to try a joke or something, maybe, when Kilara inhaled deeply. "Not only did they do those things, but the ones who dare call themselves _ancient_ in the histories...they then had the audacity to ask those of us who remained pure of blood - who retained our gifts - for _help_ when the calamity finally came for them. _Again,_ they nearly wiped out our population - sent _us_ as lambs to slaughter - but who is it that history cheers for their great sacrifice? The fucking _Cetra."_ Kilara did spit that time, out the window at least.

"I'm...sorry?" the cadet felt like he should say _something_ , and an apology seemed safe enough. Unfortunately, his mouth kept talking, without giving much thought to what was said; it was a nervous habit he'd been meaning to work on. "But, I mean can you tell? I thought Sephiroth was...somehow...an anc-" Kilara turned around to face him.

"WHA- What the fuck did he do to you?!" Cloud's train of thought derailed as he tried to keep his voice controlled, just as he tried not to stare at the dainty woman's battered arms and neckline; he succeeded in the more important one at least. Kilara was trying to tell him something, but the infuriated kid wasn't listening, talking more to himself than the girl in a low, harsh voice. "How did he even? That motherf-...no! I need to go talk to him right now!"

Cloud stormed towards the door, surprised when Kilara almost seemed to blink in front of him, blocking the exit and somehow ensnaring the trained fighter with just a look. Granted, it was a very powerful, compelling look; this confused the blonde even further as he wondered how he hadn't heard anything that sounded like _fighting_. Something else, maybe, but he'd tried to tune those sounds out.  
 _Damn she's fast! How did he even catch her? ... Did her eyes get darker somehow?_

"You will wait, to listen, please?" the woman's eyes seemed to bore into him, and the cadet nodded dumbly, returning to his chair. Cloud wondered if he had made a mistake. Well, no - he knew he'd made a mistake, _But was it asking about the Cetra, or just checking on Kilara in the first place?  
_ That she might be dangerous herself had not crossed the young man's mind, not until she'd trapped him here. He tried to organize his thoughts as the girl sat herself, legs crossed, on the bed across from him, silent and staring.

 _I guess she doesn't_ look _like a - well no she looks_ exactly _like a...like a rape victim, but she's not acting like one. Or...I don't know...I've heard of bad things causing people to kind of break. Maybe this is how she copes? I still don't see how - physically_ _ **how**_ _\- though...if you can manage to hit Sephiroth, you can probably manage running away._

"Apologies," Kilara's demeanor changed almost instantly, she seemed calm and relaxed, but still stared intently into Cloud's eyes. "I...it has been some time since I...since a lot of things, but please forgive my lack of manners." She laughed, cheerfully and - it seemed - sincerely "and I know you mean well, but trust there's nothing for you to be angry about." The woman didn't let Cloud interrupt to protest, instead motioning to her injuries, "This was not your friend, I promise. I - I do not think I could explain, not with what little time and energy I have, but please trust. Just as you do not understand the calendar, despite it being necessary for your daily life... _*sigh*_ there is a reason we stay hidden now. I do not believe you could ever, truly, understand. Seh-fea-roth is nothing but an angel."

Cloud had to stop himself from giggling at how Kilara pronounced the general's name. He felt bad right away, of course, especially considering the circumstances; the cadet just could _not_ imagine anyone getting away with such a thing! Was she _trying_ to distract him?  
"Umm...okay?" the uneasy soldier started, wondering how he'd ever become a hero when even a small girl could stare him up-  
 _Or was that trip me down? NO -_ _ **trip me up!**_ _That's it!  
_ \- could trip him up like she had. The boy _did_ **want** to believe her, to not have the image of his idol shattered, but...  
"But, you can't tell me something didn't...I'm sorry ma'am but you look terrible." He blushed, not meaning it in _that_ way, but she looked almost as tired as Sephiroth had. And the bruises - he still wasn't sure what could do something like that so quickly...in so many places. He wasn't even sure if _Sephiroth_ could have done it, honestly.

The girl got up, closing the bedroom window. Still silent, Kilara gazed out into the darkness - staring at nothing Cloud could see - for a moment before continuing on; continuing like someone who...  
 _*sigh* I give up. Continuing like everything_ really _was fine, somehow...I shouldn't even try to joke._

"Yes, I know. Perhaps those Cetra, who brought you the ability to create and use materia, were right in one thing - our magic can be barbaric in its cost, when one is not prepared." Kilara sighed again, but in a smiling way, "If we meet again, I would tell you more of the true history, but - but I will need to sleep soon, I think."  
"Oh, yeah...I'm sorry for keeping you up miss...er Kilara. If you want I'll go." The woman was already shaking her head as Cloud got up to leave, continuing to impose an almost unsettling amount of eye contact on the confused cadet.

"One thing first, Mr. Cloud, haha - Mr. Chocobo, perhaps?" both smiled at how strange the title sounded, and Cloud began to relax a little more. "Tell me, if you could maybe do some kind of thing that would be good, but if you failed things could end up much worse than before, would you try?" The smiles faded from them both, even though Kilara tried to keep a cheerful tone, and the cadet felt like he should really think about his answer before saying anything.

"I think," he thought of the time, when they were kids, he'd followed Tifa to Mt. Nibel, somehow knowing something bad would happen. The bridge she was on collapsed, and there wasn't anything he could do, he'd failed to even help, let alone prevent it. Then Tifa's father hadn't allowed them to see each other after that. But if he hadn't gone at all, and hadn't known where to find her...Tifa might not have survived.

"I think I'd still try, yeah," the blonde felt good about his answer, but Kilara frowned.  
"But if you _had_ tried before, had failed then - again and before - and nothing good came out of it? If this time, if you failed this time, probably you would perish too? Still, then, would you try? For no reason other than it seems right to do?" she stopped to turn towards the window again, no longer even pretending to smile, and still keeping Cloud's eyes trapped within her own somehow. "Is wishing on a broken star better than not wishing at all?"

 _What the heck does she mean?_ he wondered, trying to think of any example or memory that might help him find the right answer. Again, his friend Zack popped into mind; he'd been making fun of his mentor, but the quote had always stuck with Cloud for some reason.  
"Well, I mean, if it's right and if I knew it, then I don't think there's much of a choice. I'd _have_ to try to...to whatever. Honour can be a burden, sometimes, but without it you can't ever be a _real_ hero, you know? And even if you fail, then you still have that, at least." he tried to cheer the mood back up, adding, "but the _real_ hero never fails, there wouldn't be a story if they did, right?"

Kilara hummed, sighed, then finally looked away, staring at the floor and setting the confused cadet free from her disturbingly piercing stare. "Something happened, didn't it, to your friend? He's not acting like himself, is he? I need for you to tell me what that something was." Barely audible after the question Cloud thought he heard a whispered "Please."  
 _No I was_ _ **just**_ _convinced...she's not blaming herself is she? Trying to find some excuse for anything he might have done?_ The cadet sighed as well, realizing that he really _was_ worried about Sephiroth, even if the man had made a stupid mistake. If there was a chance, maybe, Kilara might stick around to...watch him or something, that might be good. But, what if staying put her in danger?  
 _I don't know...maybe I can say a little bit just to see how she reacts? I'll make the plan up as I go, I guess. Kilara is definitely fast, I'd bet she's strong, too._

"Well, yeah kinda, there was something," the blonde started, not sure what he should - or was even allowed - to say. "We came up here for a mission, but it went all wrong - I mean like, fire materia during a drought wrong. But, there wasn't any actual fire! I'm just, I'm still working on some metaphors.  
 _Dammit, and I really do need to work on those!  
_ "Anyway, I just realized that I don't think I'm even allowed to tell you. It's all, you know, classified and stuff."  
 _I shouldn't even be in here...she's fine - or determined to pretend to be - and she's kind of scary, too._

"Haha," Cloud had meant to stand up and leave the room, but Kilara's renewed and cheerful laugh make him look, confused, in her direction. "Sound carries, remember?" She smiled, seeming closer to normal now; normal for what little he knew of her, anyway. "I am sorry, I did not mean to listen in, but...as things go, _I_ am classified, correct?"  
"Yeah?" he asked, not following.

"Well," Kilara shifted on the bed, sitting on her knees with hands clasped in front; trying to look innocent, at least as far as Cloud could tell. "If I am classified, and I know about myself, then obviously I have the...it is called clearance, yes? I have the clearance to know secrets. It is important, please." The last sentence did not sound as joking or carefree, _something_ was worrying the girl.

The young man thought, _Yes, that makes sense about clearance, but...it seems like a trick._ "I don't know ma'am."  
"Again, it's Kilara, please. I'm not _that_ old, _Mr._ Cloud." Again she laughed, but it seemed more forced this time.  
"Uhh right, Kilara. It's just that I..." the cadet paused, not really sure what made him hesitate; at this point he probably trusted _her_ word over Sephiroth's, though they both seemed kind of off, but she'd said he didn't do anything. And outside of that - what about long term consequences? If ShinRa ever caught her, found out he'd leaked classified information, his career would be over.  
 _I'll never keep my promise, then._

"Perhaps this," the girl made sure to catch Cloud's eyes again with a very serious look. "I did not wish to be so blunt, but your friend is dying. Much more slowly than others I have seen, but still very quickly. You know some stories of the rabid so-called doctor - I assure you, the truth is worse than any rumour you have heard. That minion of evil has hurt-" Kilara made a noise that was almost choking but found her voice again. "-many, and continues to do so, even in absence from ShinRa. As far as I know, _I_ am the only one to have both escaped and survived his torture, and it will take more than pills or materia to heal the angel Seh-fea-roth. I wish to help, at least to try, but I cannot unless you tell me what started his decline. I...I am not even sure that I can, with that..."

Both were silent for a moment, Kilara stared intent and pleadingly at Cloud.  
The boy himself was shaken and internally debating.  
 _Sephiroth? Die? I'm not even sure that's possible. But...I also don't want to leave him alone here, with his own thoughts, to brood - or whatever he does when he gets all silent like he has been..._

Cloud took another look at the girl, trying to _look_ at her, like a proper SOLDIER would. Kilara still wore her knives; they were clean and polished.  
 _If he did something, there's no way she wouldn't have at least tried to use them...  
_ Her eyes were clear, determined, but hiding some kind or worry or sadness.  
 _She was pretty blunt, I guess. Maybe - even if she's wrong - maybe she_ thinks _something will happen to him? Apparently Kilara knows a lot more about the Planet than I do, at least its history...maybe I'm missing something?_

 _Speaking of her eyes, hmm...did they get even darker again? Or is it just the lighting? They're still what I'd call lavender but...  
_ "You will tell me now, yes? I am sorry but it is so late, almost early even, and I will need some sleep before tomorrow. Please, promise me you'll wake me up before you leave in a couple of hours, and now please _tell_ me what you know." Kilara whispered something else after that, something Cloud wasn't sure she'd meant for him to hear. "Please convince me there's a chance; angels should not die, not like that..." is what he thought he'd heard, but that creepy stare of hers was back, and it stole most of his attention for a few moments.

 _It really does seem important. And there probably is a lot I don't understand...I'd only learned about the Cetra a few days ago, but she seems to know a lot. But if he is one-  
_ "He is not, now speak! Please, of course," the woman spoke like a CO - one who had a sudden urge to be polite - snapping the cadet out of his reverie and compelling him to action.

Cloud blinked, forgetting why he hadn't just told her about the mission in the first place; of course he could tell Kilara, she was trying to _avoid_ ShinRa, and tattling on _him_ probably wouldn't buy her any worthwhile pardon, even if they did manage to catch her. Heck, just being in the mansion put her above most common grunts, as far as inside knowledge goes.  
 _And, no way she can't do...whatever has her worried, I can tell it will be okay. I know what it's like to doubt yourself, but maybe by helping her, then I can help Sephiroth! Yeah, we've got to try, anything!_

"Hey, I can tell you're strong - don't worry. And, yeah, I'll tell you anything I know if you think it'll help." For some reason, Cloud thought the girl might smile since he'd given in, but she just hugged herself, watching wide-eyed as he told the story. The cadet was so eager to please and help, though, that he barely noticed Kilara's strange, subdued reaction.

"So it seemed like a normal mission at first, but it wasn't. Even the reactor wasn't normal - huh? Sephiroth had known somehow..."

* * *

\- The last stand occurs tomorrow...and boy I cannot _wait_ until she meets Aerith... -


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: So I did the thing again, and had to split up a chapter (really needed to add a different POV to the beginning of the one coming next, this one is all just Mr. Deteriorating). As such, this and the next will be a bit short, at around 7-8k words, rather than over ten._

 _Here, we start to see some of the differences in how Jenova works - this will come more into play once arc two gets going. I also wanted to expand upon the magic system that I'm adding (hey, we all heard that conversation with Cloud last chapter - it's not implausible!)._

 _Anyway, here we go - I'd like say that part two/the second half of this scene will take less than a week since much is done...but I'm not going to promise anything. That extra POV is a bit difficult (but is so very needed)._

 _FFnet readers - I apparently cannot do_ _strikethrough easily on this site. This is...problematic, as I rely upon it for some things. I do believe I've found a trick...maybe it will work? We'll see. *Update* - nope, that did not work. Since I don't use underline, you'll just have to pretend underline is strikethrough; I am attempting to add tags as a reminder, but they will probably be stripped out on save (yup, I give up...underline + parens it is...or catch me on AO3). My apologies (blame the designer, not the artist). This is pretty much the only chapter (I think, possibly the next one some since it's the second half of this scene) that uses the font decoration...so maybe things aren't that bad._

 _We enter while Sephiroth is dreaming..._

* * *

 _\- Stay asleep for now, darling... -_

It was that other voice again: mysterious, feminine, and dangerous in a way I _felt_ , but did not understand. Everything was dark, black yet tinged green and hazy; I assumed I must be dreaming.  
At least, excluding this new phantom and her cloying whisper, everything was still quiet - still almost soothing in a way. I was thankful for the stillness.

The female ghost's tone grew suddenly angry, vitriolic as she chastised some unknown second party, but her voice never rose above a whisper. And though I could not see these ghosts or spirits, I did not feel alone in the murky darkness.  
In the strange way dreams manifest, sometimes, I was privy to only one side of what appeared to be an argument; the banshee's words felt ominous, somehow.

I listened...

"You and your...proclivities have set us back too far already; I warned that one would be a danger!"

"No excuses! That may be true, but you are a construct supposedly **capable of thought!  
** *sigh*  
If I assist now, there will be no further deviations, correct? If you fail again, we will lose months - **years** perhaps!"  
...

The female sighed again, as if conceding to the tantrums of a child, before continuing her lecture. An impression of impatience and disgust, as if I knew or should have empathy for the apparition, swept through my own mind as well. The feeling was...less than pleasant, as were the words that followed.  
 _Is this my subconscious, working to rationalize my symptoms? How should I interpret this?_ I wondered, attempting to traverse the haze, wishing to seek out the foreboding dialogue's origin and owner.

"Do as you will, but I need them mostly whole. And do this here, **today** ;no more risks! I will handle the...the transport." A spine-tingling amalgamation of snickering and snarling followed, and I wondered if it might be prudent instead to wait and listen, to learn more before searching out the apparitions. Outlandish as it sounds, I considered the idea that I was not _meant_ to hear even this one side of the troubling conversation.

"The one nearby is incomplete, buy may prove useful for this task; the retrogression opens him to less..." the succubus hummed in thought, "less expensive methodology. I am close enough to reach him, and the reward _certainly_ outshines such an energy expense, do you not agree?"  
...

The harpy's voice had calmed, but grew angry once again, seeming unaware of my presence as I decided to preserve my hidden status. "Do **not** _even_ begin to pretend you could _ever_ comprehend one such as myself! Had you _any_ sense or semblance, your actions would not have been so frivolous! Leave me, now! Prepare yourself, and pray you do not again fail again in your given task."  
I wondered what my subconscious meant to illustrate with this odd dream, if indeed this was a dream and not another facet of neurosis. That the malady could seep into my slumber was not an idea that brought comfort, nor was it a good sign if that was the case.  
 _But there is little I can do about the problem now,_ I realized, hoping to remember this for deep analysis once I fully woke.

The dream then shifted, in a sense; everything remained dark and dreary, but the female's voice took on a much more calm and soothing tone; I knew I'd been discovered. I think the thing meant to address me, personally, and I could almost feel soft hands, caressing my face and smoothing down my hair. I could _almost_ feel those things, but in truth I had very little sense of body or the physical. Apprehension began to melt away as needs I'd never known I had seemed suddenly fulfilled, but unease built up again as intuition - and the deep-seated need to never let my guard down - clashed with my want to indulge in this spectral sense of comfort.

The spirit hummed, speaking as a mother might when comforting her child, or at least as I could imagine such a thing might sound. In truth, I would not know; I've never had a mother, let alone a caring person's comfort.  
 _At least, not until last night, I think...wait..._

Remembering that this voice was the female who had whispered in that painful vision, I suppressed the urge to think about Kilara, or how soft she'd been, or the way she'd traced so lightly down my cheek...  
 _Enough of that, the deadeye is not good enough for you,"_ the entity chided as my reverie began to fade; were I corporeal, I would have frowned with disappointment at my slip.  
Telling myself that it did not matter, that this was just a dream, my attention returned to the curious new spectre. Her, or perhaps its, voice hinted at malevolence with a saccharine laced timbre.

 _I'm sorry this is difficult and painful, my champion, hmmm...but that is also good;_ that _means you are strong,_ _ **you**_ _are tempered steel. But it is time to stop fighting, for a time at least; there will be much to do, once we are united.  
_ "Who are you?" I didn't voice aloud the question, nor had I deliberately thought or asked, but the spirit heard it anyway.  
 _Hmm...  
_ Come to think of it, even as I listened to the phantom hum in thought,I was not truly _hearing_ any sounds. The voices, my own included, echoed strangely, oscillating inside my mind but not my ears.

I perceived the entity, in an out-of-body way, softly touching me again, _...yes, I like this word. Please, think of me as 'mother' - mmmm yes, that word is perfect. It's almost over now, it is almost time for us to meet, sweet child. You must to allow the messenger to lead, though...poor mother is too tired to make the trek to you. I know you will help me, though, and is why I spent the energy on this little visit.  
_ For as sweet and soporific the spirit's intonation, and for as warming the thought _my mother_ was, trusted instincts screamed _this thing is poison!_

But I could not run, and was not wholly sure I wished to, even if I knew I should. The things it did felt so nice and comforting...  
 _Mother?_ Something about the word, one of its associations, still did not feel right; thoughts of the reactor, and _something_ I knew I should remember, fled my my mind. It felt unnatural, as if the memories were plucked away before my focus found that thing it sought - before the succubus resumed her speech.

 _Now, give me your arms, dear one. Good boy.  
_ Disconnected as I felt from palpable sensation, I still knew my arms were moving, lifting something over my head and hair. Then everything felt muddled again, hazy and distracting as noise and static began poisoning the silence. Lamenting my inability to weep, and the change itself, my dream-form sighed; the lack of commotion had been so nice.  
"Why? This...hurts? I want it to be quiet again. Do you wish my torment...mother?" Again I agreed with the question, but had little choice over its phrasing, nor could I ask the thousand others that I had in mind.

 _It will stop when you stop fighting, then_ we _begin anew. I am oh-so-sorry it must be this way - but remember, the less you struggle, the less your bonds will tighten and cut into you. Give in, for me, my child; I do so hate to see you suffer.  
_ I felt the presence fade as my dreams morphed to scenes of fire and destruction.  
The town - the _world_ \- deserved it all, and had never stood a chance against us.  
The doll had never stood a chance at all.

* * *

Too-bright sunlight forced it's way past my tightly closed lids, but I fought, trying to hold on to the final dream for just a few seconds longer. _That_ dream I enjoyed; _that_ dream had felt more like my own than the preceding scenes of violence.  
"Kilara, I..." the effigy dissolved, leaving me alone, and far too _awake,_ in my otherwise empty bed. I had wanted to apologize, if you could believe it.  
 _Are you sure you were dreaming the_ _ **whole**_ _time?  
_ Of course I was. There's no way...but _Gaia_ she had been so soft, so comfortable to (squeeze) hold...

But I could feel my hand, almost instinctively, brush across my chest; it could feel no charm or warmth. A part of me was relieved, delighted that I - that my rebellious body - had not done those disgraceful things my mind remembered.  
But still, a much larger part of me was certain they had happened; was struggling through the noise and fog to find meaning in my dreams' unsettling messages, knowing they meant _something_. The sounds and pictures yielded quickly to amnesia though, disintegrating as quickly as they'd come, and only an uneasy sense remained.  
 _*sigh* No, I cannot believe it was_ all _a dream...not with this lingering pain, exactly where those vision-shards had struck.  
_ I could only hope that I'd passed out, that my actions after flashing back had been the beginning of the dreamstate.

 _Nope! You're a fucking monster!  
_ How had the hissing started before _my own_ first coherent thoughts, at least concerning something other than insanity and dreams, could form!? I wondered how I'd face an entire day of persecution; last night had been difficult enough. My immediate reaction was to deny, then to promptly doubt the validity of that denial. The end result, echoed to the phantom in my mind, was a pathetic plea at best.  
 _But no...am I? I only...  
_ _Only what? Wanted what, exactly?_

My head was pounding from the onslaught of words and bizarre illustrations, things for which I had not yet been prepared. But still somehow - groaning, grinding tight fists into my temples, and ruthlessly willing my mind to shut itself up at the threat of pain - I resolved to go about my day. Perhaps I could _will_ away the demon.  
 _Slight success!  
_ The noise, at least, was quieting...falling to a level I could, for the most part, ignore.

Resigned to having a new companion, for the time being ( _not that I intend to carry on in conversation with it...I'm just tired, not crazy...right? I_ _ **need**_ _to believe this._ ), the day's schedule was considered - the previous day's events discounted as fantasy or dream. It was the only way I could continue forward.  
 _And I_ must _continue forward.  
_ Always the model solider, I worked to snap out of the unprofessional state - there were things to accomplish today, things that didn't care to assuage my petty mood swings.

 _Shower. Clothing. Breakfast. Yes.  
_ _Forgetting something? Or just trying to kid yourself, you piece of garbage?  
_ _Shut. Up. You're so insistent that I wasn't dreaming, that I...well she's probably run halfway to Junon by now.  
_ I really hoped she hadn't...even if I was hell-bent on avoiding any thoughts concerning certain things; the girl wasn't fully healed, and there were additional dangers to consider with the reactor's... _other_ experiments roaming around. Kilara was hardly fragile, but...

 _No, she was just overwhelmed...whatever. The woman seems to be a capable adult, and can do whatever she wants. I don't care.  
_ I did care, in a way, (but wasn't going to tell _him_ that)...err...I mean wasn't going to admit it to myself.  
 _I'm not going crazy...ignore it_ \- my new mantra, it would seem.  
 _Sure. But, by the way...what is it that_ _ **you**_ _think she wanted anyway? Have you_ _ **ever**_ _put yourself in another's position? Are you completely certain your little outburst was forgiven? Sure the poor, injured girl wasn't just paralyzed with fear? Wasn't just allowing you to_ _ **paw at**_ _ **her** in hopes of escaping with her life, you fucking lech! Do you remember what __**really**_ _happened? You_ _ **deserve**_ _to die!_

I had to wonder if it was my imagination, or if the thing, what had to be a possession of some sort, had evolved overnight. How could I effectively combat such underhanded tactics? When had I started believing in possession?  
 _No, I am not...but...nobody's ever seemed...like me, like that. I could...I_ _ **knew**_ _she wasn't afraid. Yes, I am certain! I would bet that she's still here.  
_ _Would you bet your life?  
_ I paused, pondering just what sort of life was left for me, either way.  
 _Yes.  
_ _Mmmmhhhmmmm..._

Those other, errant thoughts dripped with a new and caustic brand of sarcasm; why was I trying to confuse myself? I am _Sephiroth_ , I **do not** get confused.  
The struggle continued, though. I was not surprised, but my confidence in the previous assertion wavered for a moment.  
Just a moment though.  
Then the barrage began again.

 _Speaking of -_ _ **she**_ _seems to be handling the 'not human' situation just fine, what's your problem?  
_ _I just need to meditate for a while - it's fine...I don't even care, really.  
_ I was not ready to think about that, not even close.  
 _Hrmph...dream or not you know damn well_ _ **she**_ _wasn't the one desperate for - what did get from that anyway? Here I was expecting a show and you just sat there like a-  
_ _ **SHUT THE FUCK UP!  
**_ I had no idea what to call the thing I got from her...comfort? In either case I had enjoyed it, and possibly too much. That sensation of quiet and still and peaceful, that had been so wonderful.  
 _I liked the bits before..._

"Fuckingfuckaaahhhhh", I growled, pacing angrily around the room and holding my head again, as if I could squeeze out whatever that 'other' voice was. Some fragment of the dream returned just then, whispering softly in my ear - _stop fighting._ But...no, I am Sephiroth. I fight. I conquer! I would conquer despite the shivers that miasma-laced bitch's honeyed voice shot up and down my spine!

 _I must look insane,_ I realized, laughing at myself...or maybe my mind laughed spitefully back at me. I cannot be sure, and the differences were blurring more often than I wanted to admit. But, the ridiculousness of it all pulled me back into reality, grounded me in some broken, fucked up manner. Logic soothed my worries as I realized that, whatever the current situation with Kilara or with my madness was, it wasn't likely to change in the fifteen minutes it would take to shower. Nor the twenty after, as I would need to dry and brush my hair.  
Sighing again, I remembered Kilara's fingers, combing through that hair, and for all the guilt I felt, _mmmm that feeling had been exquisite..._

 _Stop. None of that matters anyway, and what's done is done. I tried to do a good thing and, like always, it ended in destruction. That is just what happens...that is what I am...was made for. This, at least, I must accept. I am a weapon, nothing more.  
_ I tried to not think about how interesting it had felt - the thought that someone might understand why I am the way I am, might know the things I've buried, and might allow me exist without a mask - as I stepped into the shower.

The calming warmth, my reward for continuing the day, felt amazing; hot water massaged my unusually sore body - especially the chest and shoulder region - easing some of that tension in my neck. I tipped my head back under the stream, allowing soft jets of water to pelt my scalp and forehead, quieting the turmoil within. I might have tussled with the urge to masturbate.  
I _might_ have lost that battle. _Some_ part of me is, still, just a man.

* * *

Feeling guilty, in a way, but also so much better - staring as the water washed away the remnants of those wicked and alluring thoughts - I sighed, thinking about anything but what was wrong with me.  
 _Mmmm...finally, something enjoyable this morning. Let us hope this feeling lasts.  
_ _Because you want to be alone with your thoughts, with me, that much longer, eh? I'm truly touched! As are you it seems hahhehehe heh heh!_ The apparition whispered after that, devious, _and you_ know _I helped the visuals...heh._

That vile suggestion was certainly untrue! Never would I indulge in the disgusting things that apparition seemed to favour! My own ideas had been much, very much more gentle, and certainly more pleasant. Had I known how to do romance...no, nevermind; let's not even pretend. But the entity had influence over none of what I'd fantasized!  
 _Absolutely you did not! And stop changing your voice - you're me and you should sound like me. You're only here until I deal with...Project Jenova and Genesis and all of that bullshit he was spouting. Once I've sorted things and moved on like a normal person, you're gone. I am not going crazy over just some bad news. I do_ _ **not**_ _go insane. I am above such things.  
_ I **needed** to believe I was correct.

 _Just some bad news eh? I'd hate to see you react to a_ _ **real**_ _catastrophe then...heh 'doesn't matter' - riiiight,_ the voice's tone was harsh and mocking, cruel as it continued to berate me. Perhaps it was just too soon after waking, but the effect seemed so much stronger today. Generally it did not take so long for me to 'fall into the rhythm' of the day. Hadn't I already acknowledged that?  
 _Heh...and normal person - human...are you sure?_ The entity seemed familiar, in a way my own voice was not, and grew exceedingly moreso each time it spoke. I could almost remember...no best to not think about it. My imagination was just getting the best of me, that's all.  
 _No more remembering...it is useless and only brings trouble._

But, _normal human,_ I had to ask myself, _was it wrong in asking?  
_ "No..." I whispered weakly, too honestly answering as I rested my head on the shower's tiles; they were cool, hard...like I was _meant_ to be. Like I should be now. "I suppose I should go assess the situation," I said aloud to nothing in particular, "no use delaying further, waiting won't change much."  
Having decided, I stopped the water, wrapping a soft towel around my waist after feebly attempting to rub dry my unnatural and inhuman silver mane; I moved numbly, dispassionately primed to face the day. It was a start, I suppose.

 _Clothing. I will need clothing.  
_ Simple thoughts, small things, each problem broken down into manageable parts. This would be my world, for the time being. That the phantom disagreed was of no matter.  
I'd slept in my uniform - was it even _my uniform_ anymore? Was I still a SOLDIER?  
It was not time for that question; I forced myself to focus on only the task at hand; one problem at a time.

 _Fuck it - I was serious about needing some time off. Perhaps a lot of time off.  
_ After properly drying and brushing my hair - a ritual I'd always found soothing - I settled into a comfortable pair of black slacks and, feeling a slight chill in the air, pulled a gray cashmere sweater over my head.  
 _There, one problem taken care of._

I had forgotten how comfortable civilian clothing could be, even found my lips turning up to smile as the soft cloth brushed my chest. Every small, nice thing felt worthy of my adoration; it would be these things that pulled me through, and already I felt better, nuzzling into the downy garment.  
Of course, I would not be allowed to enjoy the feeling long...  
 _Pffft...if getting dressed is an accomplishment worth praise, you're in for a rough day kiddo._ So much for smiling.  
"I. said. shut. up!" I growled into the mirror as it hung, mocking, next to the bureau from which I'd retrieved the cozy shirt...honestly thinking that might help. Honestly thinking an inanimate object, or imaginary _thing,_ could mock me.  
 _Fine fine - it's all you buddy. Why don't you go scare that girl some more - I'll just sit back and watch this time, promise heh._

A fist, **my** fist, shattered the mirror - and the drywall, and then two-by-four behind it.  
 _That_ would show...show who? Me? The glass and lumber? My hand, which was now bleeding...?  
"Logic. Breathe. 1...2...3...4...5...ok. Shake it out...good. In control. Sane." The whispered mantra seemed to help, a little.

I waited, but no retort came this time - I'd half expected to be reminded of the 'in' prefix, purposefully omitted from one of those words.  
 _Okay, no more excuses or delays; just checking her recovery, just another simple task.  
_ I moved into the hallway, walking slowly toward the guest rooms. I was not thinking about, maybe not remembering, my injured hand and the trail of blood it might leave behind.  
Feeling and I were not well acquainted, even in the physical realm, of late. Rather, I was replaying what could have been a dream or memory, trying to plan for any upcoming dialogue.

Remembering that glazed look in Kilara's eyes stirred some protective instinct in me; left me puzzled and without answers or ideas regarding what to say.  
 _Step. What. step. Am. step. I. step. Missing. step. Now?  
_ Not sure exactly what I wished to see, I took a peak into my guest's room - the door _was_ open, I'm not some pervert...I just...I don't know. I thought... It was wide fucking _open!  
_ _*snicker*  
_ _Ignore it._

* * *

The door was open and the room was empty. Not just empty, though, sterile. The bed was made - clean sheets from the closet, I noticed - and not a thing seemed out of place. One wouldn't have guessed the room had even _had_ an occupant last night. Suddenly, I was not so sure it had.

 _How polite eh? Guess you missed you chance at a 'friendly' goodbye...hah,_ my mind barked caustically.  
 _No... ...stop trying to imply...you don't matter; I'm ignoring you now!  
_ I shook out my head and arms, pushing down the strange darkness from which that...other...-ness seemed to originate in my mind.  
"Shit..." I mumbled to myself, recalling my bleeding hand, then almost immediately forgetting it again as I began to grasp the implications of the empty space.

 _So, that's it, she's...gone. Well...problem solved...right? Right?  
_ I didn't understand what I felt, why I cared. Any comfort remaining from our experience was ripped away; I sensed the desolate space, that had always lurked inside of me - that had not long ago almost felt full for a short time - grow larger.  
 _AHHAHAHAHAH AH HAHAHA I KNEW IT! Ah haha, you bet, AH haha, you bet...ahhahahah...  
_ "Wait." I needed a moment, something told me that I hadn't lost just yet.

But I was lost to some foolish notion, perhaps that I'd almost connected with another being, and just stood there. I stood for...a while, fists and jaw clenched. Of course I couldn't blame the...Kilara for leaving first thing - whether last night had been a dream or not. I shouldn't have attacked her...shouldn't have let her get that close to me. I just wish she'd closed the window...  
 _That's it!_

Whether I wanted to continue moping or not, the SOLDIER training was ingrained, and my instincts honed razor-sharp. This situation was abnormal - was there a threat? Why were my senses tingling?  
Good in any case, the puzzle would distract me for a time.  
 _Why is the window open? It's freezing, and was last night.  
_ "Hmmm..." I entered the room. "Was someone following you, (little bird) Kilara?"  
 _I will_ not _use its phrasing, no._

With an immediate problem to address, I felt more myself, more in control.  
 _More yourself? What, because_ _ **you're**_ _so fucking great?  
_ _Not now, I'm busy. No signs of struggle...couldn't have left in a hurry unless there is some strange, bed-making thief or kidnapper on the loose.  
_ I eyed the room more closely, it seemed all traces of the girl were gone; the bag of clothing, her blades, that interesting necklace the casualty had worn.  
 _*Sigh*_...but the medicine remained, looking woefully unused. I had been hoping she'd take that with her, at least.

Relief...concern...relief...sadness...  
 _Spin the wheel buddy! Maybe you'll get a bonus!  
_ _I don't want to talk to you - leave me alone until I'm convinced something more has not occurred here.  
_ _You're no fun.  
_ _ **You're not real!  
**_ _Myoor myot myeel - meh, beats being you._

* * *

I'd been inspecting the nightstand, kneeling. At that...that fucking impudence, my head began to pound. I held my temples and sighed angrily, unsure if I was looking to cause, or to prevent, pain. Unsure if either would help, but again cursing my earlier recklessness as blood began to stain my hair and face. Handling the injury just did not strike me as priority, I could not explain why. But speaking of injury...  
 _Damn but if I could hit this guy!_ I suppose I could have but...sane people don't punch themselves in the head.  
 _Or hear voices..._

I barely acknowledged the jab, turning towards the window, and the odd noises that were floating in from outside, instead. "Kilara...?" I wondered, quickly chastising myself, "There is no evidence to support that...hope is dangerous! How many times does he have to..."  
 _Why am I even hoping...  
_ I strained my ears anyway, wondering what happened to trigger such strange behaviour, wondering why I wanted so badly for it to be the eccentric pixie. I was not acting normally today, nor for the past few, I suppose.

"Fucking squirrels, fucking pine trees...ugh...can't even eat pine trees..." a female voice that seemed to be getting...closer.  
Yes, getting closer to the second floor?

I'd stood up by the time a pair of hands grasped the outer lip of the window.  
 _Shit - Masamune is still with my armor...how could I forget my sword? Maybe I_ _ **am**_ _going crazy. Not that I_ _ **need**_ _my sword...I just prefer to not dirty my hands on a petty thief.  
_ _Giving up hope so soon? AH hahah!  
_ I ignored the voice as a figure hopped up, onto, then over the windowsill.

I will never admit this out loud, and will I never think of it again - but it was a good thing she caught me by surprise. If I'd attacked, I'm not sure what...well nevermind that. Kilara vaulted into the room.  
I didn't bother suppressing the smirk - directed more towards that inner me than anything. It helped camouflage the relief. Relief I did not understand, relief that made me uncomfortable in its own way...relief that washed over me like a fucking tsunami, equally destructive and cleansing in its nature. I _had_ bet my life, after all.

The next nonsensical thought was frightening as well, (but could I keep her?)...might she stay a little longer, if I could learn to mingle or to be more friendly? _Could_ I change in such a manner?  
 _So there._ Wistful thoughts aside, I did take the opportunity to throw that counter strike, mentally sneering at the entity - the enemy, I believed. Returning is the same as being here in my book; at least in this instance it was.  
 _Yeah keep that attitude up - see where it gets you.  
_ _I just might,_ just as I tried again to rebuild some sort of mental wall to block the noise and incivility.

 _Hmmmm...Odd...why...ah - eccentrically thoughtful. She didn't want to leave the door unlocked, I'd wager. At least one question has been answered. But where_ did _she have to go?  
_ I stood, musing as I lingered, waiting for Kilara to notice my presence and wondering how she might react.  
The open window produced a nice breeze, despite the morning chill, which was fading as the sun rose higher. The breeze felt great, and was very revitalizing.  
 _Maybe I just needed some fresh air?_

Yes. I felt much more like myself, collected and sane, mind only on the puzzle. Kilara seemed to be reeling in some item, attached to a rope tied to the padded grappling hook she'd used to scale the window. I was surprised and disappointed that the girl had not scanned the room initially, though I did allow myself to consider another, unlikely thought.  
 _Maybe she feels safe here, somehow?  
_ _*snicker*  
_ Ignore it.

A number of quips crossed my mind as I watched...'doing a little shopping were we?' - things like that.  
 _Yeah yeah, be yourself, that's the way to go, smartass.  
_ Great, now my 'normal' internal monologue was attacking me. Though I agreed that, perhaps, a sarcastic opening remark might not be ideal.  
 _Heh, yeah that_ _wasn't_ _even me. Makes me think...I don't think you_ _ **want**_ _me to go away, not that I believe your little 'you'll go away once I understand' theory holds much water...but every_ _ **thing**_ _has goals. I suppose whatever you are does too, heh heh. Keep that up and I'll be out of a job!  
_ Hm...I would need to think deeper on the entity's remark another time. Does...'it'..have goals as well? Weaknesses? For now, there were more...interesting...topics at hand.

I leaned on the door frame, arms crossed in a manner that shielded my perpetually forgotten injury from earlier, and looking rather nonchalant, I believed.  
 _Ooohh isn't he sooo coool!?_ In some way, at least, the ghoul's taunts seemed less harmful than its suggestions, but that fact made either no less irksome, I assure you.  
 _Do you wish for me to strike you?  
_ _HAha how?!  
_ _I am Sephiroth, I will find a way; I've achieved victory when faced with impossible odds on numerous occasions!  
_ _At least that would be interesting to watch, heh, especially for the little bird.  
_ It was at that point I realized - _fuck! -_ I wasn't sure if I'd been speaking out loud or not; had I already grown so comfortable with the other voice's existence? Had I not just asked myself that question?  
'Am I truly slipping down the slopes of madness?' - _FUCK! Did I say or think_ _ **that**_ _...Stop. Breathe. Look up, the air has changed._

Perhaps at my noises or maybe speech, the girl certainly looked spooked, and was slowly turning to face in my direction. Yes, judging by her body language - I could not read her eyes in that moment - the girl held some concerns.  
Kilara had done something smart, in donning the hooded garment and dark glasses for travel, but I wondered where they'd come from.  
 _Had they been camping where I found her? Or living nearby?  
_ Sadly, I believed the latter to be more likely.

It's not hard to disappear around a small town like Nibelheim, no. But people get bored in small towns; they gossip. Mako eyes...mako eyes the wrong colour? People would absolutely talk! An occasional visitor, though, hidden and buying minimalist supplies, might be less noticed. I'd imagine the outfit was daily wear for traveling in or around the village.  
At least _I_ knew the answer to that secret question - part of it anyway. And that answer, along with her few words last night, had revealed so many more unknowns...

Kilara kept her hidden eyes somehow locked on mine, and her every move careful and deliberate, as she finished pulling a rope into the window - tied to the end were some interesting items: a small cloth sack, bow, and quiver full of arrows. I felt better, knowing the girl could hunt for food, and that she did not rely on foraging alone as the year grew colder.  
 _Such a strange time for that thought...such a strange thought..._

It was only when those items were safely inside that Kilara froze completely; I could feel her masked eyes boring deep into my own, searching.  
"The star...it is...lost?" I didn't _need_ to see Kilara's eyes to read the tension in her voice.  
And also, I did not answer, mind seizing with the realization... _ **those**_ _events last night were not a dream?_ I felt somewhere between horrified and numb, wondering if she really meant to go up against the phantom who wished to take not only my life, but hers as well, if those fragments of remembered experience were true. I'm not sure I wanted to know what she thought of _me._

 _...tick tock...  
_ _Shut it._

It is difficult to have a staring contest, of course, when the other party is wearing sunglasses. Why was she suddenly so frightened again? Visions did not threaten us, and I had made no sudden moves.  
 _None yet, but we_ _ **are**_ _going to have to kill her, and soon at that.  
_ _I would never - we?!  
_ I saw it play out, I _think_ only in my mind; I prayed it was only in my imagination that I watched, helpless. The doll was fast, but I was faster! Both of her feet were far off the ground as I held her there, a looming shadow, truest black against the murky dusk of that dream-dark realm between; a fiend still as the otherworldly flash dissolved. I could see myself, grinning in the real world, with one hand around Kilara's throat and the other moving up her...

 _Sick fuck! That's not me NOnonono! Where are you getting these ideas!  
_ With an astonishing force of will, I pushed the impulse and disturbing hallucination far away, disgusted with what I truly hoped was not myself. Perhaps I _had_ been possessed or...or something. I would never...  
 _*shudder* What just happened to my vision? Breathe._

As I regained control of my mind and body, both of us grew tense, noting that I'd stepped forward, almost as if to begin acting out the wicked spectacle. I remained still, concerned that any movement might risk another slip.  
 _Pull yourself together, Sephiroth!_ _ **You**_ _do_ _ **not**_ _lose control!_

Kilara was not exactly calm herself, either, but it seemed the girl was trying something. "Friend? Mister...Seh-fea-roth? Is everything okay? You can hear me, yes?" Something about her voice - her concern cloaked within that staccato, foreign lilt - helped to ground me; anchored me to the world outside of my own seemingly broken mind. Her eyes were wide behind the glasses, I could tell, and I knew what she said next was important, but the mental connection short circuited before completion. "Seh-fea-roth, where is the star?"

Though I had the capacity to notice her slip, that the girl's accent thickened as though she usually kept it hidden, Kilara's actual question seemed fuzzy in my thoughts. That accent, I did not recognize it, but the same slip had occurred last night as well. Another puzzle.  
Another puzzle I did not have the resources to solve as immediately as I'd wished.

 _What is happening to me?_ I had to wonder. Again. Surely I just did not get enough sleep; my rigid workaholic lifestyle was finally catching up to take its toll. Surely, this was something I could explain away!  
 _If you say so...we going to finish the job or what?  
_ I shook my head and looked back towards the (girl-doll)- **woman!** It seemed like she expected me to say something.  
 _Or do something heh heh...  
_ _Go. Away. Hadn't there been a question..._

Kilara's face held worry and fear that were not well masked; perhaps the demon was correct in its assessment. But, I did not _want_ to frighten this girl; I wished to ensure her safe recovery.  
Fuck, I wanted her to be my...my friend. And, maybe some other things, as well and after that.  
 _Probably just uncomfortable that I'm in her room,_ I realized, albeit a bit late; frantically hoping she had not been privy to my quick slip into another plane, despite such a thing not logically being possible.

 _ **Her**_ _room? I don't have the ener- Boy! Have you been listening at all?_ Apparently confused, perhaps by my refusal to obey, or even the uncanny generosity, my phantom pulled back a tiny bit. At least, that is how I interpreted the strange sensation, grateful for the slight reprieve.  
 _I suppose, for now, if she wants it. I'd bet she's still not fully healed, especially considering...well anyway, we wouldn't want the materia go to waste, after all.  
_ _riiiight  
_ _Ignore it. Breathe. Speak, like a human and there's a chance you may salvage this situation.  
_ _*giggle*_

I shook my head a bit, again, chuckling as if nothing could be wrong - as if I knew how to make a joke! "My apologies for the intrusion, Miss Kilara. I...had not expected you back? Especially in," my gaze moved to the open window, "such an interesting manner." I had also attempted a smile and a friendly tone - both acts for which I was woefully out of practice.  
 _Don't sound so inviting now haha.  
_ Kilara retained her stare, but appeared to shrink into herself, apologetic and embarrassed by my notice of her unorthodox entry. Yet, somehow and still, the girl was willing to try to help me, I think. She reminded me of a mistreated puppy in that moment, and I wanted to console-  
 _You mean pet - I_ said _you could keep it, unconscious works for now, but you have to_ _ **listen**_ _to me!_

 _I will not. Now, shit - quickly now...rephrase or clarify or something!  
_ "Not that you're uninvited, of course - at least for the duration of the monster problems and your convalescence. Perhaps even..." I paused to unfold my arms, a much friendlier posture, as well as to redirect my words.  
 _Don't get cocky now..._ my own reminder, at least; and good advice at that. Now was not the time for long term invites, not one so forward anyway.

"Speaking of - with that increase of creatures in the area, ShinRa is likely to send more SOLDIERs. I'm afraid to say they may not be as...understanding of your situation as my associate and I, and it may be best for you to lay low. And please, again, excuse my intrusion - consider this your room for the time being."  
 _Well...not even I can find fault with that - a bit uptight maybe. Looks like she's still sulking though...are you sure you weren't talking out loud earlier? Or maybe she's considering more night-time adventures down memory lane...heh heh.  
_ _Just leave me alone._

"But...of course you're free to leave too, whenever you'd like - using the door if you prefer", I attempted a good-natured grin. I did not wish to give the wrong idea.  
 _Nice! Embarrass her!  
_ _Shut up it was supposed to lighten the mood.  
_ "I just wanted to ensure you were aware of the potential...threats in the area." I recognized the circular dialogue and stopped, waiting for the girl to answer. I waited for a time, not entirely comfortable with the silence, before considering...  
...before considering defeat, and that my guest would take her leave.  
That I was doomed to die here, in madness and solitude.  
 _About time you realize that! She cannot leave, though!_

 _She can, but I suppose I've said my piece and should go.  
_ I didn't move though. Neither did Kilara. And I continued trying to ignore the voice, though it did not extend the same courtesy to me.  
 _He's trying the 'stare at them until they provide information' trick - the one he's famous for.  
_ _He? I'm right here...you're...do people really think that?_ Was I really asking the phantom for critiques?  
 _What do you think, it's your signature move! Doesn't work with sunglasses though, I'd bet.  
_ _You sure?_ I felt it necessary to take the 'point,' noting that, finally, the girl had found the will to act.

In fact, she'd started to remove the hood and glasses, so I couldn't be sure if he..I..if that last statement had been correct, but I still believed the score in my favour.  
Kilara shrugged off her cloak but stopped, only moving to look in my direction again after packing up the glasses and donning two bracelets.

They were interesting pieces of that same stone - opal - the right cuff black and luminescent, and the left a beautifully rainbow white and glowing from within. Again I wondered how she'd never thought to sell them. Though, if their effects were as I'd felt from the charm last night, I began to understand...at least the lack of pawning  
I also questioned how Kilara wore the pieces; I saw no clasp or hinges, but the circlets were far too snug to have slipped over her hand, dainty as it was.  
 _Are they **really** glowing, slightly? _I thought, puzzled and questioning far too many things at once; my buzzing muddled mind was not itself.  
I could barely keep up with myself to _ask_ , let alone answer, the many mysteries surrounding my guest.

"The star, and..." Kilara made a noise, a gasp I think, finally dropping her fixation on the charm. "Oh! Seh-fea-roth, your hand...?"  
 _That's why I'd crossed my arms...dammit, I'm losing my edge.  
_ _Losing your mind, you mean?  
_ I tensed, pushing down my anger and annoyance, not wanting to frighten the woman who was...concerned by my injury?  
 _Why? If anyone should know that it will heal in hours..._

"Little accident with a mirror, it's nothing. You were saying..." I ventured, wanting to change the subject; casually moving that arm behind my back to hide the damaged limb. Of course, forgetting the sweater's colour and grimacing at the stain my blood had caused. That sweater had been so comfortable, too.  
 _Little accident? Heh...aww is that concern? Look at those doe-eyes,_ my mind voiced, sarcastically. _You know, even if you don't form the picture...I see it. I know you, monster. Damsel in distress shows her...heh...gratitude._

 _That wasn't me..._ that _was you..._ Somehow, I **had** to believe there was a difference.  
 _I am you, monster. Go on, take 'er out for a spin - one last romp before we burn this fucker down!  
_ Furious at the apparition's suggestion, I had to concentrate to make my reply, _and_ to keep it internal.  
 _ **Your**_ _thoughts are_ _ **not**_ _mine to act upon._

* * *

I was thankful for an excuse to move all of that far away from the front of my mind as Kilara slowly stepped in my direction - cautiously gradual in her approach. Less afraid than wary, she moved like a lynx, eyes darting about as if sensing danger, yet never leaving mine for long. That contact, eye-contact, I knew it helped in some way as her irises darkened, lilac and very far from grey; not as dark as I had seen before, though.  
 _Interesting, a correlation perhaps?_ I wondered, fixating on that thought.

 _She is helping me, yes...but...  
_ But, I could not bring myself to admit any need for that h...for help, thanks to another set of 'lessons' learned. Not out loud I couldn't, but I tried to make it easy for Kilara to hold my gaze; I did not _want_ to be a danger, not to her especially.  
 _Sure thing boss, call me when you can't sleep again, hehe.  
_ _ ***ignore*  
**_ _It's not ignoring if you thinksay 'ignore' and I can hear it.  
_ _*...*_

I hoped my face failed to betray any heightened annoyance with the apparition and its made up word; the poor girl was already looking skittish. I wanted to scream, 'No, this isn't me!' but...I could not. It was all I _could_ do to remain still, fighting the alien urges to...  
To...I don't even wish to think about what that monster who possessed me wanted, nor my own desires, growing with every moment the defiant woman _dared_ to stare me down like that. I hoped they did not feed off of each other, those wants, but worked to curtail my own strange stirrings, just in case.  
Fingernails digging into my hidden, and _still_ bloodied hand, I worked to breathe normally and focus on Kilara's words.

"I..." she looked to the floor, "in truth, I had not planned on coming back." Something in my chest fell, feeling suddenly hollow; _more_ hollow than usual, with Kilara's admission.  
 _Ah hahhaha, just as well you can't let her go now...she's a witness.  
_ Quickly the girl forced her gaze back to meet my own, hands awkwardly clasped in front, "Not because of anything that you did or...last...it's just because I don't like being an intrusion or feeling like I owe people. You've been very kind and..."  
She held up a hand before I could speak, before I could reiterate that she owed nothing...that maybe only she could help me.  
 _Oh, so you're people now? She didn't mention owing monsters...  
_ _ **Not now with this!**_

I concentrated on the girl's voice, willing my own mind to remain grounded. "But, your friend, yes? Mr. Cloud? He...he was worried about you being alone for too long...I might have been too, for reasons. He did not...mean...to tell me some of...of things, so please do not be angry with him. I might have forced the information from him, truly that one did not have the choice, perhaps. Oh, Mr. Seh-fea-roth...I did not know you had only just now learned of...I would not have... I am so very sorry..."  
I wondered what it meant, what it _really_ meant, when Kilara's left eye flashed to deadened grey then quickly back to vivid lilac.

 _\- Will this torture ever end? -_


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: So, finally the other shoe drops - things happen here._

 _Initially I'd done the (you'll see) in R'yelhian, but since I decided to expand upon the system of 'old magic' I've instead changed the words and language; we're using Lojban again for continuity._

 _Original for posterity: C-ch' kadishtu lloig li'hee y- orr'e stell'bsna wgah'n hai.  
_ _Translation: We cross over with understanding in our minds, on the pain of my soul, that we pray for control...now._

 _I'm not great at Lojban (or R'yelhian, I'm sure someone will note - and I'd be happy for corrections re:either), but will provide an updated translation if asked, though part of me wants to make you (a nebulous you, not necessarily 'you the person who is reading this') work for it (despite the possibility of something getting lost in context.)._

 _Or maybe I'll just add the translation later/next update. Last chapter's was as follows:_

 _Lojban: .e'au ca nonsku .i do na catra mi  
_ _Approximate English: I request, advise, and encourage you to be quiet/say nothing. You will not kill/harm me._

 _Simple, yet apparently very powerful, words indeed._

 _Anyway, I got the itch to add a Kilara perspective, just to break things up, so we start with that; she's the most difficult to write, I think. That said, some of the things I get the opportunity to do with voice and cadence are both fun and intentional...and will be explained (or, at least the explanation will be alluded to) further on into the story. I am able to make sense of it, at least - and I think/hope you'll like the logic.  
_ _After her, we will switch back to Sephiroth to finish out the scene. I've extremely excited for the next chapter, as (finally) we get a new perspective. A certain redhead's perspective, at that (and his has been my absolute favourite to write - such a theatrical little fucker, haha). That whole 'mostly 3rd person' thing I mentioned a while must be lies and slander...I'd apparently forgotten just how much first the was._

 _FFnet folks: apologies again, I'm apparently not adult enough to choose my own text formatting. **Again** , we will use a combo of (_ _parens and underline_ _) to indicate text that *should* be strikethrough formatted...*sigh*_

 _Let's go, then. Something seems amiss with Mr. Sephiroth, yes?_

* * *

 _\- Kilara is concerned... -_

I could not bring myself to tell him just how badly this might fail, how I'd damaged others before, even though I'd wanted to save them. This fact did not matter, because there were nothing of alternatives, I would not fail this time! For Shallan, for Emile, and for all the those who've died because I could not protect them. The spiky boy had been correct, there would never be a story if I gave up this early.  
 _And for all I do not shy away, death does not seem to_ want _me anyway._

Though I had to hold the angel's eyes to mine, it helps sometimes, I also needed to check in on the other thing. To see the darkness was not as important, so I let only my left eye flash - and then still, only very quickly - into the realm some believe only gods could ever know. Trust, I am no such thing; I am only cursed.  
That flash was enough for me to hear, at least. The darkness was almost at its end stage, and I hoped it would waste as much power as possible with the taunts, painful as they were. Taunts, at least, are not actions.  
 _Be strong, angel..._

 _\- ...too frightened to move away, you disgusting freak. -  
_ _\- ...please no... -  
_ _\- You don't deserve to live a life, let alone believe you could save even this disposable one...and unselfishly at that! HA! But she_ _ **cannot**_ _make it out of here alive! It knows our secrets! -  
_ I did not like this version of the shadow, but at least it was the evil man and not...a different thing; it was not the Starbreaker, though I thought I'd felt her once.  
 _But that is myth and legend, even by our standards,_ I did not wish to believe the possibility. Even the idea gave me shudders.  
But back to this and then and now, this was good; _this_ darkness meant there truly was a chance to win!

Sephiroth, he noticed my glimpse into the other place, but also he was tired and did not ask or look away. I wished so much to heal that tired look, and to take away that sadness he was hiding, but I needed to find out more about the shadow, first. This one seemed different from the one I knew too well; it almost felt more dangerous. I would guess it was an older version of the programming I had seen; less refined could mean more violent, but also that could mean more weakness.  
 _I must find the weakness, yes._ A plan began to come together, it was not lacking desperation, but it was a plan, at least.

"Shut up! That's not what I..." Sephiroth trailed off, rubbing palms flat over his eyes; I could tell he was in pain, but took the opportunity to listen to the other once again.  
 _\- You destroy everything, it's your nature. Stop fighting! -  
_ The angel did not think he had an argument against, but that could not be right. He did not let me die, even when much of myself, in a moment of weakness, was wishing to be done with life again.  
I remembered Mr. Cloud, how he had been ready to fight, thinking I'd been harmed, and knowing very well he would lose that fight; this gave me some strength to try. We must all do what is right.

"How long have you been hearing him? The stranger, it is _only_ a him, yes?" For all I wanted to sound strong and knowing, my voice seemed shaky and concerned. I was very much concerned, though, so I suppose that is okay. It took Sephiroth a minute, and in that minute he pushed the truth aside, but at least the man could answer as himself. And maybe the dream would not be a worry. I hoped for this to be true.

"Sorry, I'm just tired - had a bit too much to drink last night, and I didn't mean to say...that," Sephiroth shrugged, but I could see even _he_ did not believe the words, "aloud. I am fine."  
 _The rat had years to work on him...of course._ For some odd reason, I had expected this might not be too difficult, but such was never my luck, it seemed. _Still, I must try!_

I clucked my tongue at him, both catching the angel's attention and also almost giving him a smile. This was good, and this bought me time. "Listen, Mr. Se-phiroth," the old magic always coloured my voice with desert tones, but I tried to suppress the accent. I also tried to sound confident and reassuring. "I do not know you well, nor you me. But, I do know certain things, and can do some other things...I promise, as much as I can, that if you let me help, things will be okay."

The silvered angel looked at me, confused, but was giving me his eyes again at least; I could help him keep his true self in control. If I could keep us talking, give him confidence, that would help as well. I tried to smile, "You've said barely a thing aloud, and had at most two _proper_ glasses of wine last night." That had always bothered me about wine, "I swear, whoever decided a quarter glass of wine was classy...Shit - no, we must speak on important things!"  
Taking in a breath, I shook myself, preparing, "We don't have a lot of time now...something was done to you, yes? _He_ did something, but I..."

I had never outright admitted this to one who was not of Alriyah Alzilu blood or similar, and had only alluded to the blonde one. I had never, but that did not mean would never, and I trusted the angel who saw fit to save my life. "But, there are other magics. Stronger than your materia or even _his_ psychology and drugs. It is a cruel trick, but that voice is _not_ you, okay? _You_ are not crazy, and you are not what it says you are; you are an angel. Please, do not think you aren't." If that was the angle _it_ had taken, trying to break Mr. Sephiroth, then I would take the opposite. I could see, in ways even I did not understand, that this man was good deep down inside. Good, but like me, so very close to broken.

* * *

 _Stop thinking so much, you're losing him! Speak!_ It had been some years, outside of Emile, that I'd spoken to another; conversation is not an easy thing for one like me, even if the rat had not done damage. Hoping Sephiroth would not remember much, I allowed almost any thought that came to become spoken words, and put less energy into hiding the desert colour of my voice.

"I have...I have seen this thing before, but we must do two of things if I am to help; the first is get the star back, yes? You must try to ignore...him and it and anything that is else."  
Without the star...I did not wish to think about it.

Poor angel, in a way being strong was hurting him; he had already been fighting so long against the evil taint. Longer than I had ever seen anyone last...outside of, maybe, Shallan...but even she had died.  
 _I will not let you die!_ The thought was reassuring as I took his pause - Sephiroth seemed capable only of staring ahead, trying to understand my words - I took the pause to check again in on the other while my angel worried on embarrassment, thinking I might judge him. Of course I would not.

 _\- Oh you know who! You allowed yourself to be controlled then, why not now! Give! In! -  
_ This was not good, but just as with the poisoned thing's suggestions, someone strong and proud like Mr. Sephiroth, I think, would need convincing before he chose to follow me. At least the angel was harnessing his anger at the rat, seething inside but asking me, dull but not yet lost, "What do you mean?"

 _How do I condense...  
_ "The voice you hear, think of it as some sort of fail-safe for ShinRa, or moreso for the demented one himself." Good, Sephiroth was intent to look at me, but time was running out, so I had to explain quickly. "A way to make sure you wouldn't...I do not know...disobey, or that they could catch you if you did. You're not possessed, and you do still have free will, but...I don't know exactly. Hold on," I had read this in a stolen book, and the angel looked at me strangely when my hands mimicked the turning of pages in that book. But, this is just how memory works for me sometimes.  
"It is...it would be impressive if not so cruel, but think of it as your subconscious being replaced or hijacked, yes? The thought is that you would...in a way...if they needed to get rid of you, that you'd handle it yourself. Quietly at best; and in a manner easy to cover up at worst."

I could feel my own fists clench, remembering the fire and everyone he'd left trapped...but it was not the time for that. "But the star - it has fallen off while you slept, yes? Come, we must retrieve it now. When you are well I can explain." I kept the angel in my sights, leading him towards the room I'd heard him enter when he went to sleep last night. The Mr. Sephiroth was still looking very much confused, but at least he looked like him in the eyes; in places where it mattered.  
A part of me was very much confused as well, wondering why I'd risk this thing - we'd have to check his bedroom for the star, and the foul ghost would not be able to resist attacking there - but I...I knew I could not let this, or any other, one die. Not like that, especially.

When the angel had carried me, when I thought _I_ might die...I'd felt so safe. I'd never felt safe when I felt safe, except that time...and when he'd held me after the visions, things I now knew were his phantom reaching out to try to hurt us...  
It had taken years for me to learn what healthy touch even meant, and never had it felt so natural, or maybe even right; never had I allowed - a male especially - to hold, or nuzzle, or be so close...  
 _Enough then Kilara, only vigilance will save you both!  
_ Yes, it was time to concentrate. I would not allow myself to fail again.

"I'm...ha ha...I'm not crazy? Really?" The angel sounded relieved, but not fully believing. It would not hurt to keep his attention or convince him further, so I tried again a different explanation while, very slowly, we walked - myself stepping backwards as I tugged his arms. "You know those spy books where the secret agent doesn't know he's a secret agent, but then someone says the wrong words and their training just, _poof,_ wakes up and they try to assassinate a president or something?"  
"I...the plot device is not unfamiliar," Sephiroth was being made to blink too much, but truly he was _very_ strong, and stayed with me despite how dazed he seemed. ""Wherewhy, no, whereare we whygoing?"

 _Good, well...better than bad, but getting worse. We are almost there. Engage him.  
_ "It's like that; a fantastic mixture of psychology, hypnotism, drugs, materia...and probably abuse." I had to fight the urge to drop my own eyes when considering those tactics. "I would be impressed, really...if it wasn't used in such despicable ways. But you're not crazy, I promise again. And I can help," we'd reached the room, and I risked touching the angel's cheek to whisper one last thing. "I hope." Sometimes skin contact helped more, when I could not hold the look.

Letting my left eye fall into that other place, I searched, looking for the broken star. It was tangled in his bed sheets, and I hoped the glow would persist long enough for me to find it in the realm of physical things.

* * *

 _She says she knows how it works, that I'm not...  
_ "I'm...ha ha...I'm not crazy? Really?" Was this joy? I could barely believe the words or my own vocal tone.  
And, of course, it/he/my own mind wouldn't let the relief last long.  
 _No you're still crazy. What would she know anyway?  
_ _Shut up Hojo - that's what she was saying, that this is your doing! I will forcibly rip you out of here if I have to!  
_ _You try that - leave your little buddy here to clean up what's left of your head. Bet she'll appreciate that! Or...maybe we take her with us. Whaddayasay? I'm embedded.  
_ _Shut up!_

I thought I heard Kilara speaking but her voice seemed far away. Everything seemed far away.  
 _Something about a movie?  
_ "I...the plot device is not unfamiliar," I answered, hoping the generic statement made sense.

I...here I thought I was free, years ago when they said I didn't have to live on campus anymore; even though I'd remained, the _choice_ had been important to me. That was when they'd fired him. I'd thought I was free after that.  
 _But no matter what I do from here...how do I know it is my own will?  
_ _You don't, so deal with it or just_ _ **let go**_ _\- I can handle this. I'm tired of arguing with you anyway...itching for some action!  
_ The voice had...changed. I sensed a tinge of desperation...even more anger.

I felt a tug on my arm...Kilara? "Wherewhy, no, whereare we whygoing?" I...tried to say coherent words, but I'm not sure much more than a mumble came out. It was taking all of my concentration to block out in to Hojo's demanding, commanding, disturbing voice. How was something like this even possible?  
I was walking, led somewhere.

In my head, it was easier to enunciate.  
 _There IS a chance...she beat you once...didn't she? That's how she...escaped?_ Escaped what, though? Did he have other projects? Did ShinRa know?  
 _As if!_ It was less confident this time, I think.  
 _I will also escape. You do not control me any longer!  
_ _Hmmpf...we'll see...  
_ His...Hojo's voice in my head kept going, pounding! _Now - look! Your bullshit is just making work for everyone else. Why not just stop - end it - hell, give embracing your nature a shot ah hahaha - the hand was a good start, but I want to see blood dammit! Hmm...Let's experiment._

 _No...not like this..._

I could still hear the girl talking, as much to herself as to me.  
"I can help," the girl was determined, but my eyes were flickering too fast, blinking if not twitching. I had trouble holding her stare. I noticed we were in my bedroom when Kilara looked up, eyes wide, at me; something must have changed. I saw panic slide across her face even as she lightly slid a finger down my cheek.  
"I hope," I thought I heard her whisper.

That faraway look crossed Kilara's eyes for just a moment. I remembered that look from last night, hating the way it made me feel all...confused... But it gave me strength as well, somehow.  
"There, the star is not far from your pillow," she proclaimed, sounding both relieved and a little worried. Her eyes left my own just after I'd snapped back, jolted - at least somewhat into the present.  
"Huh...?"  
The girl turned, digging around my bed, in search of something.  
 _Now's our chance boy!_

Something happened. No, I don't know what, but it was not my will or wish to make that something happen.

* * *

Kilara, looking increasingly concerned, trapped as she was underneath me on the bed, opened her mouth but made no discernible noise. The girl was strong, but I was stronger, and had not only gravity, but leverage on my side as well. I...my body held her there - both tiny wrists caught above her head, one handed, while my other set of fingers fought to not undo the buttons of her shirt. I might have lost that battle, and the one coaxing my mouth onto her throat, had the over-assured entity not chosen that moment to speak out. The bastard used _my_ voice!  
"I couldn't resist, when he finally admitted to liking you, little bird. You'll be so much fun to break, for both of us, heh..."

And he was using my eyes! I do not know how to explain it, but he was! Pupils dilate when one is aroused, but I _knew_ mine had taken that fucking serpentine, predatory shape again.  
 _No! You will not!_ Doing what I could to fight, I at least managed to stop any further...progress.

And even in this position, Kilara worked to keep her eyes on mine. This I did not mind at all. The exotic colour of her irises was interesting, puzzling...and that mixture of abject fear and real, albeit confused, arousal was also nearly irresistible.  
I wanted to...NO! The ghost and I were not the same!  
 _Gaia I want...please...help...I need to...what is she? I want...but that thing wants..._

Kilara swore to herself, realizing the deadlock in which we existed - in which I held her down - was the best that I could offer in that moment. "That asshole, I'd kill him in a heartbeat...this is...of course! He had funding back then! Okay." she seemed to be coaching herself. "That is something of okay, I have weapons too." I didn't understand the meaning as she followed with a whisper, "Forgive me this, old ones..."

I watched Kilara's eyes grow even darker, now an almost plum-like hue, and could feel a strange heat emanating from her bracelets. A heavy numbness washed over me then, both my mind and body, as I watched the poor girl's bruised injuries reform. I did not wish to see that other place or what caused such harm, and the girl was kind enough to spare me, I think. I also thought that they were not as bad, this time, but might have been deluding myself. I was not myself enough to be certain either way.

"You will release my hands." Her accent was extremely thick now, but I barely noticed, eager to comply.  
"Sit us up," she ordered, one eye dead as her freed limbs tied the charm around my neck. Suddenly I felt almost like myself again. Kilara though...  
 _I'm so sorry...  
_ Kilara wavered, rubbing at each bracelet - I thought I could see burns hiding underneath the stones. She'd only faltered for a moment, though, before quickly jumping up, moving so fast that my broken senses could not quite keep up. I'd lost her eyes again.

"This will _not_ be like the others! Do you hear me in there!?" Not quite a shout, but forceful for such a small creature; I tried to turn in the direction from which her voice had come.  
 _What did that mean? Others?  
_ _It meant nothing - pfft others...you're the only one here, buddy, who could be as fucked up as this! Hey look she's got your hand, bet she likes ya - how about you show her that big long sword of yours heh heh - bet you could get both necks in one swing, easy!  
_ _No...never...  
_ If I just shook my head hard enough...maybe it would stop.

 _And see, I told you they were all worthless - straight back to the bed as always!  
_ "Hey! Hey! You _need_ to look here, at me, now! Seh-fea-roth," The odd use of my name pulled me back to reality for a second - Kilara was standing on my bed, shaking my shoulders trying to get me to...to what?

 _I saw that if you didn't,_ it said, flashing a particularly disturbing image into my head, _you know what the question is...heheh.  
_ _No...no..something about...eye contact? That was it, I think. She's not tall..._ _ **Look now, puzzle later!  
**_ Somehow, I managed to ignore even Kilara's glowing wrists, turning my head to her voice and relaxing as that eldritch pendant leaked a soothing warmth into my chest. Things weren't silent, but they were better; they were manageable and allowed me to concentrate on Kilara.

Our eyes locked once again, and I felt something...grab me, tether me to the real world; the new thing - whatever that thing was - surround me like a warm blanket. I could still hear the phantom, shouting angrily now, but I didn't feel as compelled to bother with him. I did not need to listen, it was just noise, irksome at best.  
I still wasn't thinking quite straight, though. When I realized I'd grasped Kilara's hips, to help stabilize her on her perch - O _h, that's why the bed...taller_ \- I froze. Those horrible images...I couldn't look, had to turn away. Was I really capable of... _that?  
_ _How dark can her eyes get? But...no I can't...I won't do those things...I don't want her to see them!_

"No, it is okay," the (doll) girl said in a soft and soothing tone, gently holding my chin to keep me facing her. Kilara tried to keep her expression calm as she spoke, but winced with me as if she felt the entity's mental assault herself. "No, it is okay for the now," she almost hummed the words melodically, but there was pain hidden deeply in her voice. "The important thing is you do not look away; that bastard has tricks, but so and also do I. Just keep looking here understand?" She tapped near her eyes, "We can stop this, the voice, him, and all of that - just as long as you keep looking here, okay? Remember this word - _**eyes!**_ "

I didn't understand at all, nodding yes in a dazed, mechanical manner as forces I might never understand warred; one wishing to tear me apart, and the other wanting only that I remain whole a little while longer. In some way, I felt smaller, and all the better for it. Nothing had _ever_ seemed so beyond my power or comprehension, and I found a strange comfort in the idea; maybe the world wasn't resting on my shoulders after all.  
 _I will try..._

The girl looked to be straining, her jaw was tense and her brow furrowed in concentration. I could not imagine what she went through, just to gain the small advantage that was my attention. I could see the evidence, but I could not comprehend. This would be another first for me - how did normal people deal with mystery and lack of understanding on a daily basis? The temptation of surrendering to the idea that I might bd powerless was alluring, but I had a feeling that the entity wished for it to feel that way. Even if this war was beyond my understanding, I would not accept passivity!  
 _She looks so tired..._

 _Probably all of the memories you just pulled to the surface by grabbing her like that -_ though sounding weaker, _he_ still managed to cut deep with that remark. _That's right, aren't eyes the window to the soul or some bullshit? Think she sees how black yours is? eh heheh...Why not give a demonstration, eh?  
_ I felt a pulse of urges, _none of them my own,_ I hoped, successfully fighting a compulsion to move violently towards the innocent woman. I wanted to take her, then tear the little waif apart piece by fucking piece.  
NO! _I_ did not want that! _He_ did, and I would _not_ obey!

Kilara interrupted what was likely going to be another torrent of gruesome pictures...or worse. "Nothing like that, and your soul is beautiful," she said, smiling warmly through her tension.  
 _What?  
_ "Don't think about it right now - okay? I've only...successfully...done this once...kind of...almost. That does not matter. I'm going to need your help to do it again, to do it right, so stay with me, okay...okay...ah ha there - SOLDIER! **EYES**!"

That did it - the remembered simple keyword snapped me back. I was shocked by the sheer audacity of a civilian using such a tone and term, but was back, at least for now.  
 _Don't look away, right.  
_ I started wondering, when was the last time someone gave _me_ an order?  
 _You're 1st class - are you just going to take that? Pitiful.  
_ _I am, and_ _ **I**_ _order_ _ **you**_ _to shut up!  
_ "Okay - now what?" I asked, not dwelling on the fact that I hadn't removed my hands from her body. Nor on my fear that I'd be lost if I did. I tried, though, to loosen the grip I knew was improperly tight; my hands engulfed the woman's slight hips in manner none could pretend was anywhere close to appropriate.

She must have felt my hold change, "No, contact helps - it is okay. Skin is better, though."  
 _Our lucky day kid - try not to break 'er before I've had my fun.  
_ I ground my teeth, frustrated and ignoring the remark as Kilara continued. "So I'm going to take both of your hands now, okay? I need to get down, so just keep watching here," she pointed to her eyes...shining...lavender...had they always had such a bright glow?  
 _I could just...get...lost..._

Kilara gripped my hands, ignoring the blood, and I felt the...it wasn't pressure...more like a shield of warm light against the darkness that assailed me. Whatever it was, its effect increased just slightly once again.  
I was able to bring myself back, to focus on the words and not my own quickly fading sanity.

"Research," she said. "Your friend - he said there was research somewhere here - in a library right?"  
"Yea...the key's..." I started to pull away, but the girl did not allow my departure.  
"We get the key together, yes? You stay with me now - only look up, from my eyes, when you have to, okay? You walk forwards and I'll go backwards." It was odd, moving like that again, but...I had lost the will to concern myself with looking silly. I felt...wrong, and this wonderful faery was helping to fight that feeling, somehow. I could sort the details later.

We retrieved the key from its hidden drawer and headed towards the library, still walking in that odd fashion. I did not know Kilara's end goal, but was pleased to be progressing forward, towards what felt like sanity...pleased she was there, helping me.  
Yet still I was left wondering how the girl did not hate me, despite seeming to know what I was...and what I was capable of.  
 _You **want** to rip the bitch in half!  
_It did not help to let my own mind grow dark - outside of that one, only a few faint suggestions from the other thing were reaching me now.  
 _*sigh*  
_ As if on cue, just when I'd pushed my own dark thoughts away, just as we reached the stairwell, the attack began again - testing our defenses.

 _Be a shame if she tripped wouldn't it haha? Let's see how she bounces?  
_ Kilara's grimace, as if she'd heard - _ohplease no -_ bolstered my resolve, and I was able to properly ignore the suggestions. The more _he_ wanted to hurt this innocent faery, the easier it was for me to resist, at least for the time being. I could feel _something_ building, but didn't have the strength to worry. I did have the strength to taunt back, though.  
 _Your own trick worked against you there, didn't it? How about you go away now?  
_ _ **Stab her fucking eyes out!  
**_ _No.  
_ The girl was not wearing her daggers, and I was thankful. The demon had tried to reach for one.

Kilara's grip was almost painfully tight, even as she tried to not hurt my injured hand further, even as I felt my own muscles straining to disobey. I knew she was holding those hands down, away from the fragile features they seemed intent on marring. That she was strong enough to hold back what I could not offered some glimmer of hope, hope that we both might make it out of this alive.  
 _And she looks at me with kindness still?_ How I could be deserving of such a thing was a fucking mystery.  
But, we made it down the stairs and into the basement library. Ignoring the demon was getting even easier, as if that protective mental blanket grew thicker, warmer now that the steps were not a distraction. I assumed this was a good thing.

"It's getting...better?" I asked Kilara as she paused, lips pursed. Surely I imagined the waver in her stance, certainly the apparent weight of her eyelids was an illusion...and had the girl always been so pale?  
No, such things could not be, she was fine; she was strong, and this was working. I wasn't sure the problem, exactly, nor even why this _something_ seemed to help, but now would not be a good time for things to get more difficult. Not down here...not with so many reminders of my past and _him_ around.

"That's because I'm holding you here...it's, I promise to do explaining later." Kilara spoke, pulling my attention back to her.  
A look of grim determination displaced some of the fatigue I was imagining...hoped I was imagining. If she had to fight, or defend herself from me...if I...lost my mind...to that...  
 _Damn straight she doesn't have a chance! We're just playing right now, making sure she's good and tired, heh heh._

Some far away part of my brain wondered what could be so tiring about a simple staircase, and I pounced on the idea, wanting to allow the distraction, meager as that example was.  
 _She knows I didn't_ want _to throw her, right?  
_ _Haha, she knows that this basement is where you both will die!  
_ _Shut up! I'm trying to think...  
_ The mystery would have to wait, again. Kilara clenched my hands tightly, a small amount of fear creeping into her gaze.

"Seh-fea-roth? Se-phiroth, you are here, yes?" I nodded, tuning back into the present on the second mention of my name...or at least her version of a word that sounded like it.  
"Okay. I need...I need to step away, to search this place. There's going to be something... _has_ to be something here...to help me find the words I need. You're much and very strong, and you can be strong now. This I know, and still I will be helping some. I know you can do this. Whatever the darkness suggests, whatever it tells you to do - please, please ignore those things okay? It is nothing but lies and bad advice coming from that voice, yes?"  
"You can't..." I did not exactly know _what_ Kilara couldn't stop, but I could feel the beast within my head, preparing its assault for the moment that she did. If she left me with it; no she could not. I felt so tired of the struggle, I needed...

Kilara squeezed my good hand, "I know, but I trust you will overcome. Listen, just please trust me, trust yourself...but don't trust the voice...please. Can you do that? Can you ignore the other voice? Just for not for long, I promise."  
Softer, another "Please..." accompanied by a look of fright and worry, another that probably wasn't hidden as well as she had hoped.  
But that terror...remembering why the girl was even here...  
I may not know her well, but we...we shared something, I know it. That thought, and never wanting to be the cause of such a look, strengthened my resolve, boosting the confidence of my voice as I replied, "I...I think so. Yes, I will."  
 _I will try._

"Good. Listen, these things will get more difficult. I think the dark one holds off, biding time and gathering its strength. There is finite amount of...whatever it is that powers this one. He knows that he will lose, and if I am correct in guessing, there will be one hell of the last of efforts. Listen! Hey! Se-phiroth! _Motherfucker!_ "

The next part...I don't think she was talking but...I heard her voice.  
Something happened to the blanket (or whatever it was that...I'm not sure, protected me from that other, darkened part of my mind); it stiffened, pulled taught and hard like a...a wall? I couldn't see...was she...were those her lips...on mine...  
 _"I do not believe it can hear this, but I've got to be much quick even still - can you hear me?"  
_ _Yes? What is...wait is it you, Kilara?_ I thought the words, _at her_ , on instinct; the communication seemed to succeed, somehow.

 _"It is me...I'm sorry...forgive me. But this is important, listen - If you're able - and_ _ **only**_ _if you are feeling able, it would help to draw it out. Make it...make him waste some energy, to deplete reserves, yes?. If he thinks himself to be winning, he may hold off on the worst so that he can toy with you. That one doesn't think I'll find the answer, but... No, best not to say that part, even here."  
_ _The what part?  
_ I felt myself pulled away from her voice before an answer came; I found myself focusing too much on soft lips and close warmth around my body. Thankfully, Kilara 'spoke' again, pulling my mind away from those physical sensations, and I managed to keep (my)... **his** hands under control.  
 _Please, Gaia, don't let me hurt her..._

 _"I'll be back to reinforce the thing you call a barrier, okay? Just...please...you need to fight. You must fight, Mr. Se-firoth. He will try to force you to...to move or do some things, eventually, I think. I don't know, I've only heard rumors of that...but this seems to be the case with you. Anyway save your own strength too, okay? If you can - only if...please...the more energy he wastes talking, the weaker that physical compulsion should be, ok? Se-phiroth - you-are-not-a-monster. I've met many of the monsters, and they were not ones like you."  
_ Kilara had been 'speaking' quickly, trying to condense so much information into something my addled self could digest. I wanted to agree, to say something reassuring, but was not able before physical sensations encroached again.

I whooshed back, gasping as she released my neck.  
 _Had she...what?  
_ I needed just to think, a moment, to...had Kilara _meant_ to kiss me? Is that what she did? Or did the act disgust her, but was required for...whatever let her 'talk' to me in that strange manner? Why did she even care what happened to me? The questions and implications swirled in my mind as I was led, dazed and wearing an idiotic grin, into the library's main room.

 _Gaia, that felt amazing!  
_ _More's there for the taking, if you've got the balls!_ Again disgusting...enticing images flooded my mind. I began considering what might happen, if I let him take control. He was not so socially awkward, he could get anything we want...  
 _Am I moving..._ _ **NO!**_ _I will not hurt her!  
_ That I'd neglected to remember he was also a fucking monster was concerning. How much manipulative power did that entity possess?  
 _Shit! Pay attention!_

The poor girl was trapped again, wedged between a desk and my terribly menacing form, when I reentered reality. Stopping the motion of my foot, which had been trying to kick the poor girl's legs apart, I pushed myself away and stumbled back. The casual fabric of my non-uniform pants reinforced _exactly_ what that inner demon planned. I was a terrible, awful monster!  
"I'm sorry..." was all I could mumble before her gaze, determined yet frightened, washed calm completely over me again.  
 _I can't...  
_ I thought I could not fight, but those thoughts on what he/I/it planned to do to her again bolstered my resolve, as did Kilara's attempt at a reassuring smile.  
 _I can...? I_ _ **will**_ _fight! I_ _ **have**_ _to!_

She sat me near a large desk in the center of the room, then broke eye contact with one last squeeze of my non-injured hand, repeating her mantras of strength and sanity despite that awful crime we'd just narrowly avoided. The space inside my mind...shifted...again. It wasn't like an off switch, the voice was still dulled but...less so. I tried to concentrate.  
 _Draw it out...right. And what does that mean_? _If only I could fight this thing head on!  
_ For the first minute I could only sit, staring at the hands Kilara had released...opening and closing the injured one rhythmically as I counted. The pain was distracting...the pain was helping...

Then the real torment began, and the pain felt like nothing in comparison.  
But I've fought countless battles, this would be just another in my repertoire, right?  
 _Of course, except here,_ _ **you**_ _lose!  
_ _I_ _ **do not**_ _lose!  
_ _Arrogant is what you are! Mehh the great Sephiroth - SOLDIER 1st class, never loses, always so stoic and in control. But isn't that you there, tearing your own 'oh-so-luscious' hair out? A vicious madman! Weak against a worthy foe?  
_ I saw a vision of myself...felt my limbs moving of their own accord...I was weak. I deserved to die, defeated.

"You're not weak, and it is not the ethical, the methods used." Eyes again entranced me; soft hands brushed my face, and then the image faded. "You are doing well, and do not need to give it that much ground. Hold now, yes? It is more important that you hold your position than it is to try to push right now, yes?"  
That girl looked exhausted, "How long...?" I wasn't sure if I'd meant 'have we been here' or 'until this is over.'  
"Don't worry, it is almost the end. Hold okay, angel?" I nodded, nightmares swirling in my skull. The things I'd done...that he said I'd do...would try to make me do...I had to fight...I tried...

 _Hold...yes...hold her? Hold, take, destroy... Wait?  
_ The girl was quick and nimble, and I thanked the goddess she escaped my grasp. I'd tried...no _it_ had tried to grab at (the doll) Kilara again, trying to force her into straddling me on the chair. Luckily, my body was too tired, too confused to give chase after she escaped. I tried to not think directly about it, but I wondered if the phantom was, itself, being disobedient; hadn't the other ghost ordered him or it to stop that? I hoped the weakness would be its downfall...before it was Kilara's.

Similar exchanges happened - I'm not sure how many more times. The voice maneuvered between general destruction, burning the mansion, killing myself, and killing Kilara. I found the last easiest to resist.  
 _And I know that pisses it off,_ I thought with a weak smile.  
 _I don't give a rats ass about the little tart, and you don't either. How about this - we chase her out, maybe rough her up a bit, but I'll let her live. She'll get out and you'll finish the job on yourself here. You got that?  
_ _No...yes...but I don't trust you..._ That deal sounded too good to be true, and I had doubts the _other_ entity would be pleased if Kilara got away. Still, though, the offer sounded tempting...but I remained strong; I refused.

I wanted to walk, to pace, but I was afraid of where my legs would take me. The phantom became more and more focused on Kilara after I refused its deal. The demon _knew_ she was a threat, and that she was close to finding some secret to its defeat. It was only this that gave me hope, kept me fighting against my own body as it acted on the demon's orders.  
I wanted to scream...maybe I did, just before Kilara stopped me from breaking my skull against the basement's thick, stone walls.

Every time I was convinced and compelled to find a weapon, anything sharp; something soft to grab and squeeze; to try beating the voice out of myself using whichever wall was was closest; or even when it wanted me to do other things...to the girl, the one whose gaze brought me back. She was always there. Her bewitching eyes always trapped me just in time.  
 _I'm so...tired..._

The blanket of safety was barely a sheet now...if that. More like netting, with holes and tears growing always larger. Kilara was overtaxed as well; the poor girl, why was she wasting so much effort on me?  
 _You're right you know - this isn't worth it. If you'd just give up, if you do that, this could end. Aren't you worn out yet? Let me take over, you get some rest maybe?  
_ _I...never said...wasn't worth it...did I?  
_ _Who cares, it's not, just end this already!  
_ Why was I fighting anyway - what could be worth this...torment...I could just...

 _Open that tiny little neck, maybe cut a few more holes for us to-  
_ _ **NO!**_

"Hey - hey! Attention SOLDIER! Hey...open your fucking eyes now!" No, she was too close, what if I grabbed her again?  
 _But, orders...right.  
_ I opened my eyes, startled to find another pair so close. Violet, darker than they were before, or maybe it was just the lighting. Pupils...like a cat's...I knew that meant something, but couldn't recall what. I was standing, arm raised...  
 _Damn it! You bastard I almost had her! Do you ever let the fuck up!_ The phantom was angry. This was good, I think.  
But I reeled when the candlestick fell from my hand, clattering to the floor.  
 _No...no if that is the result of giving up, I-will-not-do-so. She is innocent._

Kilara seemed to catch a burst of energy as she spoke, straining to overpower the evil thoughts, "Okay we're ready - hey...good, look at me, good. Listen, before we do this I need to know - hey! - Seh-fea-roth - hey you cannot go to sleep...not yet!"  
 _Ouch what was that...oh right..._ it has been a slap, and I was thankful for the jarring pain, even as the ghost tried again to use the supposed 'insult' to incite me. I was barely listening to it, though. Kilara had my hands again...the net became a sheet, growing in strength. Soon it would be a blanket, and then we'd go to sleep together...

"Not Yet! Hey!", I clawed back again, resolved to try to stay this time. I hated when (the doll) Kilara sounded so uneasy.  
 _I_ _ **must**_ _stay,_ I thought, pulling my hands away and far from her delicate, fragile, oh-so-fucking-breakable spine...  
"Tell me - hey - do you believe in fate? That all is set in stone beforehand?"  
 _Of course you do - you're fated to die here, a monster. You're fated to_ _ **kill**_ _anything and everything, including both people here...heh, well at least one_ might _be considered a person..  
_ I wanted to say no, to say that I could be...something good, but I was _made_ , built to be this monster. "Yes...I believe."  
 _Was that another slap?_ _Need to look, focus. Eyes help...look!  
_ _How dare she put a hand on you again! You won't stand for this will you!_

The girl's voice was pleading now, as I fought keep my hands - my teeth even! - away from that vulnerable little neck of hers...Gaia I could _see_ her pulse, her plump aorta just begging to be ripped open.  
 _NO!_ _Stop, make it stop, take me - whatever, but leave her alone!_ I couldn't do it. I didn't even have the ability to tell my thoughts from the demon's anymore, and just wanted everything to stop. I wanted it to be quiet again.  
 _Deal's off the table, but you could snap it with just a look, if you'd only_ _ **try**_ _! Then you'll get your quiet.  
_ _No...I...won't...please...  
_ My only consolation was that the evil seemed so torn between killing the girl, or raping her first, that I could mostly wrest away physical control. I hoped she could forgive me; hoped she knew that I was trying so hard to not direct her movements, and did not wish to back her into the quickly nearing wall. I was trying to not trap Kilara, but the stupid girl wouldn't run away.

Another part of me was trying to hear, to listen to her words, "You are wrong in that, Seh-fea-roth - nothing is written, understand? Fate is not a story already on the paper, that's not what it is. Fate is a choice, it is many of the choices. Fate is whatever gods or chaos you believe in setting up the pieces, but it is _you_ \- hear me - _you_ make that choice, nobody else!" her voice was begging me to understand...something was leaking from her eyes.  
 _Tears?_

"Choice?"  
"That is right, the choice - now listen I need to drop the...the blanket, ok. This will take longer than I'd hoped, but not too much of long. I know you have the strength! You must fight while I...I can kill and take away the voice now! Yes?! The pain is almost over. You're strong - you can do it okay? This is the last it. You have the choice right now, and you need to know that, okay...okay? No matter what his visions show, you - _you_ are not a monster; you're an angel."

Even as those kind words left her mouth, the beast within me worked to trap the girl again. Her back hit a wall, my arms moved to block her exit on either side...  
 _ **NO!  
**_ "What do you...choice?" My hands were moving to Kilara's neck, but I did not want them to. She held one back, my right with her left, but the other was free as the girl pressed the star pendent into the center of my chest.  
 _I have a choice?  
_ _ **NO! DIE!**_

Something shifted, slowing time - at least that is how it felt. My chest was warming, and I thought I heard the woman's words but...but they were faint and unclear. I could barely see, vision full of static and tinged with red.  
".i lo vlile"  
My free arm had reached its mark, and I felt something soft between my torso and the wall. Kilara dropped my other limb, trying desperately to instead direct my gaze, back to her own, I think. That arm just added to the pressure on her throat.  
 _Destroy! Squeeze!  
_ _"_ cu _*wheeze*_ zasti _*wheeze*_ ku'i _"  
_ She was choking - I was choking her. Cold, dispassionate...ruthless. I felt my head tilt, more interested in how the little bird continued moving than anything else at the moment.

I was the perfect killer, as I have always been and was made to be, staring into the eyes of my prey as I took it down.  
The girl didn't struggle as she reached out, fingertips brushing my cheek...smiling? Kilara's irises were nearly black, they were so dark...intriguing...  
 _You had your chance - kill, then we can have our fun!  
_ "ma'a na *gasp-choke*"  
 _Eyes! Hands! Focus hands - choice!_ I couldn't not squeeze, was too far gone for that, but I managed to move my hold from the girl's neck down to her shoulders. Bone was cracking under my iron grip, I could feel her breaking, shattering, trying to not scream as her left arm fell limp, clavicle destroyed. At least the girl could breathe again.  
"finti ra"

Somehow Kilara's right arm stayed on my chest, as if stuck there by some magnetic force. A part of me realized she was likely only standing because I held her there, digging my fingers deeply into bruised flesh and fighting the urge to return my hands to her fragile little nape. The doll's knees had given out a few seconds ago.  
 _Feels good, doesn't it?  
_ I saw myself within the flames...turning my back on a friend.

 _You don't know what friends are! Was Genesis a friend when he withheld information, then came begging for your help!? Was Angeal, when he left to follow, also telling you fucking nothing?!_ The fucking demon had a point there, I suppose.  
My left hand continued to hold the doll upright as my right sought another bone to break. It seemed to decide on the fingers of her free hand. But why was I punishing Kilara for what my former comrades did?  
 _No, that cannot happen! I don't wish to torture-  
_ _ **Squeeeeze!  
**_ ".i po'o prenu _uuunng*gasp*_ "there was a pained squeal as the smallest finger broke; I hoped she couldn't feel as much while in such a trance-like state.  
"...darlu"

 _STOP! I won't! I won't!  
_ "I'm sorry...please run. Run away..." I spoke out loud, hoping she would know, would understand that I was trying...  
"I can't..." still my own voice - sad and weak and...monstrous as another image infiltrated my mind.  
 _Well if you insist...then I WILL!  
_ Rage at the thought and new illustration strengthened me for one, one very thankful moment.  
 _Choice!_

Pressed against the girl, against the wall, the hand that wasn't trying to choke her started wandering, feeling under the terrified girl's shirt; it had given up on bone breaking. The sounds did not give _it_ enough pleasure.  
 _So soft...No! Step, turn, back!  
_ I'd freed her, slamming my own back to the wall; but I could still feel my hands gripping, nails tearing...hurting...pulling her close to give a chance to bite...desperate now!

And the stupid doll wouldn't run, wouldn't take her hand off of my chest. She just kept trying to speak, slowly but surely completing some incantation whose purpose the phantom despised.  
 _Pitiful failure! Monster look at what you're doing - that's you. That is you and all you are good for! Destroy!  
_ Nails...flesh...blood...rage...torture...I could see only red as I felt a fist meet flesh.  
" _*cough-wheeze*_ zi'e cu zifre"  
Like me, Kilara would not fall so easily; a killing blow was needed. I hoped my hands hadn't moved back to her neck...the only thing I could focus on was to fucking snap it!  
 _Crush damn you! Finish it!_ _ **Now!  
**_ ".ia do cu angeli"

 _ **Wait! Eyes!**_ I was able to look at Kilara again, and was praying she could help me stop this madness.  
Her own lids were closing...closing as I ripped the life out of my purple, red, and porcelain little doll. I was choking her again, leaving the collar and shoulders both misshapen and in ruins; I'd been barely able to hold a grip on the pulverized bone, anyway.

But...but then I didn't _have_ to anymore. The ghost was shouting, but its voice was growing weak.  
Kilara was growing weak. I saw her smile, inhaling deeply with irises so dark violet that they almost appeared black and without pupils. "jetnu .i na jitfa .i jetrai .i lo no mu cusku .uo" she whispered quickly, colour fading from her...from her everything, but especially from her eyes, with every word. Those previously vibrant eyes were dull, grey, and vacant as they closed; as Kilara fell limp and heavy into my arms.

 _No...please don't die...what's that behind..._ _ **move!  
**_ On instinct I was attempting to catch the girl, but something else was telling me to let her fall. Something else was insisting I fall with her. Only then did I catch a flash of steel, unable to process the meaning, but trusting my body to react; trusting my body for the first time in what seemed like a millennia.  
"Genesis?"

A single word was all I managed, turning in the air as I fell, trying to position us; trying to avoid harming Kilara any more than I had already. Just that word before pain exploded in my right shoulder; muscles I didn't even remember having tore and split and severed as the blade ripped through, but the pain did not lasts long, at least.  
The basement floor was cold and hard, and the last sound I heard was my own skull, cracking as it bounced against the stone.

 _\- A quiet darkness... -_


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: I know, I know - nine chapters in and we've barely covered one evening - and now I'm taking you_ _ **back**_ _in time!?  
_ _Yes, but least it's from a different POV. After this we'll get to moving, though, I promise. This arc plants a number of seeds that I hope will be well nurtured come part two and/or three._

 _I did have some fun writing this, trying to channel some 'theatrical' inclinations; hopefully it's not laid on too thick. I also had a lot of fun with how the scene sort of curls in around itself (you'll see about 3/4 of the way through what I mean), and I hope you enjoy that. I know I did. I do question my use of quotation marks, one or two places exist where they were purposefully omitted to add to the overall effect. I don't think this should cause confusion, but I already know the story; we are open to opinions with regards to the stylistic detail._

 _I've been working to keep up with this at least weekly, and I do not believe that will change, but if it does know that I've not abandoned it, I'm just also working on another story or two as well. I need the different themes and tones to keep my palette fresh and whatnot. Probably at most two weeks between...having some difficulties with the other and that will make me either concentrate more on this one instead, or leave this one for a bit to try to fix that one._

 _Happy reading! (Or not, if you don't want to; I guess it's your decision)._

* * *

 _\- Genesis reflects... -_

It was not my wish to cause my friend such anguish. Forgive me that much, I implore.  
For the world to have its new hero, a new villain must first be forged; I would need a worth adversary. And though not a master smith, I was chosen by the Goddess herself to do this forging; just waiting for my touch were all the proper materials, tools, and instruments of pressure. _She_ had been calling to me day and night, in dreams and waking visions.

It is my only regret to have created the prison of his mind.  
No...haha, no I cannot take credit for _that_ cruel masterpiece; I had merely locked its doors upon him when delivering the truth. I had seen it all, had rehearsed a thousand times in my own thoughts - the flames, the destruction...everything was perfect for our opening night!  
"Action," I whispered into the darkness, lips curling into what some might call a wicked grin, but knowing the beauty of our show would easily outshine that single stain of darkness on my soul.

 _When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end  
_ _The goddess descends from the sky  
_

From this dead world's ashes I would rise - the spirit of Gaia herself would carry me - a new hero, favoured by the Goddess! Life, death, peace, and chaos would merge, becoming one to save what was left of this wretched world. To change it for the better!  
What was one sacrifice for such a noble calling?

Still...I regret...  
Bah! A fool's emotion to be sure! Regrets fix nothing, and any cretin can regret. Regret served me no purpose.  
I spat at the word, casting off the thought and hardening myself against further useless frets. The Goddess _herself_ had blessed my plan. In some ways, she had guided me to form it.  
It would be my actions - my penance and my honour - that would defeat the new villain and raise me to throne of heroes.

 _Wings of light and dark spread afar  
_ _She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting_

I knew how it would happen. I'd seen it in so many dreams and visions, gifts from the Goddess meant to light my path in times of darkness. This end was promised to me by the fates themselves!  
Radiant, I would swoop in, their eyes shining with delight as they watched their saviour, me, claim his prize; my great victory!  
They will see, and they will overlook my cursed origins...

I knew Sephiroth would not give chase as I flew from the reactor, content to watch from afar for now, knowing he - the methodical bastard - knowing he would need time to think. Bastard's always thinking...planning, even scheming...  
No, I lightly scolded that thought away, it would be best I remember him as a friend while still able, for soon that bond would be irreparably severed.

Angeal would be taking care of that twerp puppy and his little friend by now. It would not matter if he did not have the will to end them, it was the distraction that was paramount. Our villain would need time, alone, to reach his tipping point.  
The anticipation was almost painful as I waited, watching. _She_ had warned me not to interfere too early, and I would not wish to disobey the Goddess.

 _Infinite in mystery is the gift of the Goddess  
_ _We seek it thus, and take to the sky_

So, when no flames arose, when I heard no cries of torment, save the anguished whispers of my friend as he wandered, dazed...  
When my dreams were again shattered, I seethed, impatient.  
I wept.  
 _No, this is not how it happens...this is not how my story ends!_

Perhaps I was being hasty; it takes time and pressure to break those of such immense strength. He would realize his role yet; he would seek to burn away the questions and their answers, just as I had before _she_ found me.  
 _Yes, we are only in the prologue, and soon the true first act begins!  
_ Consumed by anger, self-loathing, and the frenzied need for revenge, he would soon lose himself to the torment. I'd planted an idea - to complete the destruction that Jenova never realized; to make his 'mother' proud! Silently, again, I thanked the Goddess for that inspiration.  
He would accept this mission - his destiny - soon enough, just as I would embrace my place as the hero who could stop him. It was written, and so it must be.

I made efforts to endure, to wait - what is joy without suffering to remind us of its gift? I followed behind the former general, but not before summoning a few more distractions for the little pup behind me. Between those, and Angeal keeping him busy, I should not be bothered.  
I had no desire for either of the two's mundane 'dreams' and 'hero' dreck this night. Tonight was for _my_ dreams, and I would write, star, and direct with nothing less than absolute perfection!  
 _It's just you and I now old friend. You know the conclusion, you always have. Accept your role._

 _Ripples form on the water's surface  
_ _The wandering soul knows no rest_

Oh, the wanderer!? This - _this_ was where my doubt had always lied. Not in the hero, nor the newly confined prisoner who was soon to be my villain. I would think on this in the interim, as we would need to execute every detail flawlessly and without oversight.  
A worthy distraction to pass the time, yes! And yes, I had my guesses and contingencies for each. Still...

To move with an incomplete vision, or without a fully realized script...it was not my ideal process. But the Goddess had not revealed this piece, and it must be for good reason. I wondered if she wished to see me ad-lib, perhaps to test me; perhaps to ensure I did not grow bored as I waited. Clever fates indeed.

The chance had perfectly presented itself, and seize it I must! What better place to make the revelation than the very town where Sephiroth was created?  
He'd call me reckless, a fool - hah! We would see the fool when, defeated, the illusion drops and he's forced to confront the destruction wrought by his own bloodstained hands! Who would be the fool when I asked him to imagine what destruction would have come, had I not intervened?

While carefully tracking my quarry a brilliant thought struck, gifted from the ether, or from the Goddess herself. A reward, maybe, for my continued patience?  
 _I_ was the wanderer - what else have I been doing all these years? There was no third party, nothing to be had but us.  
 _You and I, Sephiroth...our fates are intertwined in more ways than even you can understand.  
_ In a way, I did not fully understand either, but I _knew_ ; thoughts were firing at supersonic speed, bolstering, justifying, and urging me onward to embrace destiny.

The wanderer _becomes_ the hero, his epic journey finally at an end.  
His purpose found and fulfilled. His soul cleansed.  
Yes...now it all seemed to fit. The others were wrong in their interpretations.  
I wouldn't need Angeal after all. Pity.

 _There is no hate, only joy!_

I stopped a distance back for observation, a different trance seemed to overcome my friend, compelling him to pause. Perhaps there, within the eternal beauty of nature's bosom, he had finally come to see what must be done.  
That the disease must be cured.  
For the good of the planet...  
"I shall weep for you as you die, old friend," I spoke quietly to myself, muscles tensing in anticipation. When - _oh when?!_ \- would he finally lash out? The first strike _must_ come from the enemy of good!

Sounds do not travel as far in the deep wood, and from my perch I could not see what image might so transfix my... _my_ nothing. Now he was only the villain.  
It was time to face facts.  
Though in truth, it did not matter. Once the killing began, our villain - _my_ villain - would be born of fire, blood, and carnage. _I_ would be reborn - a noble hero, adored by all these lesser beings.

 _For you are beloved by the goddess..._

I watched as he moved to draw his sword.  
"Yes...yes..."

 _Hero of the dawn, healer of worlds_

A copper scent permeated the air...but still no sounds or screaming reached me.  
 _Not too close now - the hero must be seen as pure, as clean._ It was becoming difficult to tell my own monologue from the Goddess' directions, but in either case I did not disagree. The hero must not be seen on the sidelines, plotting, either - only acting, within the glory of battle.

 _Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul_

A scream - primal and so devastatingly human in its pain that the cry must have crossed back through the realms, reaching inhuman depths of agony. Truly, we must possess a soul, as I felt my own shaken by that howl.  
What torment! What misery! What suffering! The poetry of loss, of anguish, and of men shattering!  
It was beautiful, in a way, and I felt it a sin to not lay my gaze upon the scene, chancing to move in closer.

 _Pride is lost  
_ _Wings stripped away, the end is nigh_

Yet still, I saw no flames.  
The death in view was bland, did not resonate within my heart, and did not beg the hero's vengeance.  
Nearby, a small figure wavered, out of place next to the mountainous beasts that lay slain in the clearing. Perhaps it was a sprite of the forest, come to sacrifice herself as harbinger of my new beginning?  
Yes, a magical gift from Gaia herself, to show true support of our cause!

And my friend - no, wait! No true fried would do this to me, would take this away! This was not how it was supposed to happen!  
I did not understand when he moved to catch the falling figure, black wing, so much like my own, finally beginning to show itself. Confusion overwhelmed my thoughts when the supposed villain clung to the sprite, vision clearing...determined...  
I knew his purpose this night was not destruction.

 _My friend, do you fly away now?  
_ _To a world that abhors you and I?_

Though Sephiroth flew back towards that hideous realm of so-called civilization, I followed.  
Again my patience had been tested. But, my fate was not yet completely undone.  
Destiny cannot be altered; the goddess _must_ try the patience of her new champion. He _must_ prove himself worthy!  
I _would_ be worthy. I would bide my time. I would show her the true depths of my patience and understanding of her plans.

 _All that awaits you is a somber morrow  
_ _No matter where the winds may blow_

For I had already been to the mansion, and I had read the scrolls.  
"Okay, wait - scrolls? You're calling these scrolls?" an _annoying_ voice cut in to my reverie, arm out and waving as if I didn't know the room was full of books.  
"I'm being dramatic, Angeal - speaking with flourish. You should try it sometime. Do you wish to hear the rest or not?"  
Taking the exasperated sigh as a sign for yes, I began again my tale. "Now, where was I...ahh..."

I had read the _**scrolls,**_ and only I knew what was coming. If any forge could shape our villain, it would be the demented professor's little gift. Dead man's switch, I believe, is the most fitting term.

 _My friend, your desire  
_ _Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess_

Hands like ours, they were not created to save, only to destroy. That is what they _made_ us for. The appalling truth would be realized all too soon. In some way, I pitied my old friend, to think that he believed it might be so easy to cast off the bonds of ruin. His lingering hope might be the catalyst we needed to move forward, though, once it was shattered.

 _Even if the morrow is barren of promises  
_ _Nothing shall forestall my return_

Nothing comes without great sacrifice, and it would be _mine_ that reaps the reward. It would be _my_ hands cleansed of blood. I _would_ have my day as hero. _I_ would become Gaia's new, beloved saviour! The only ideas on my mind were of Sephiroth's sunset and exit from the stage, followed by my own grand entrance. It was going to be beautiful!

 _My friend, the fates are cruel_

I watched until dawn, when the infantryman left alone. It would not matter that such an insignificant character was left alive, though again and with that allowance, the Goddess tested the limits of my patience. At the time I neither knew nor cared to know the puppy's fate; he'd never been more than an understudy at best.

 _There are no dreams, no honour remains_

Another figure, nimble and petite, stole out of a 2nd story window not long after, and I began to further appreciate the Goddess and her foresight. Truly this scheme had been layered to accommodate any possibility!  
 _Oh my friend, will this betrayal be our catalyst?_ I wondered, excitement building in my chest. I moved to follow the little thing - to see what treasure had enticed the sprite to give thanks by way of thievery. But in the end I did not track it far, knowing I would need rest before what comes next. Surely our villain would be forged by her betrayal.

Sleep was evasive as I perched; so instead I sought a noble goal to pass the time, and began to choreograph the finale in my mind. Though it pained me, I swore to watch, to give my friend that final honour.  
I vowed to witness his fall into madness and his demise. I would tell his story - his rise to towering heights, and the long, arduous fall down that followed. This would be my gift to him, a thank you for his sacrifice.

And so, into the wind I spoke my final words as Sephiroth's friend and comrade, "It is just you now, alone, in your prison of thoughts. Should you do the righteous thing and accept your fate, I promise your suffering will be brief."

 _The arrow has left the bow of the goddess_

Eventually I could watch and wait no more. I could not bear the anticipation - the Goddess would understand, and would appreciate how the singular need drove me forward. It was for her I did this...well...it was for myself, as well.  
Seeing the esteemed man begin to crack was so enticing! The broken mirror - the blood - that should be the final spark to ignite the flames of passion within my villain.  
 _Embrace the scent, and I will see you again soon.  
_ Blissfully, and carefully, I stole into the mansion to await our final meeting.

"What? How?" An incredulous audience member blurted, interrupting my narrative and cadence. As there was no undoing the interruption, I decided to grant an answer.  
"Well, of course I'd made a spare key. After an incident such as that, the press would be drooling for original research notes.  
And who better to provide them but the hero of the day? Now let me finish, Angeal." The man nodded, and with a small cough to clear my throat before continuing the story.

I ducked behind a door frame as the sound of movement drew closer, moving in my direction. A voice I didn't recognize accompanied the footsteps, begging...commanding...pleading for the villain to obey.  
"Look at me! Focus! Step. That is not your voice - look at me! Now step again." It seems the forest sprite had returned, and would be the first of many sacrificed.  
This idea bothered me in some few ways, but who was I to question the Goddess' will?

 _My soul, corrupted by vengeance  
_ _Hath endured torment, to find the end of the journey_

Somehow, that little faerie was aware of the villain's curse. Somehow, she thought that she could help him!  
Furious, I almost gave away my presence, only finding the self control to think the message as my mouth began to open. I slammed it shut, _No! Only I knew of that secret!  
_ I saw my enemy, hands clasped tightly in the sprite's, staggering towards the library steps.  
 _I will not have this taken from me!  
_ Somehow, I _knew_ she knew the secret, but how? Had the Goddess known? Is this why she bade me wait, so that I could see the sprite's betrayal first hand? So that I could understand why she was to be another body on the pile?

Moving to follow whilst keeping a safe distance, but wanting to hear the sprite's words with more clarity, I strained my ears. I _was_ curious, this is true.  
And there was another possibility, perhaps I would begin my heroism here - sprites are creatures of the goddess.  
Such a rescue would surely earn her blessing.  
Or perhaps not...one small sacrifice - an offering to incite the coming storm.

Torn, and unsure which route would elevate me further, I continued watching. The small creature's voice did not carry well, and some words failed to reach my ears. Of those that did, I will admit, I did not fully understand their purpose.  
"I need to look away...You will need to hold yourself... Can you do that? Can you ignore...voice?"

 _In my own salvation  
_ _And your eternal slumber_

My concern faded to only a slight bother as time crawled onward; I could _feel_ the Goddess' will. This - _this_ \- would be my catalyst. I'd read of the madness built into each of Hojo's subjects - there was no salvation, the villain would be loosed.  
 _But the sprite interferes...  
_ I knew not her magic, but sensed it _was_ her doing that my villain had not yet been freed! But this ending, this finale was already decided. Her hold would not prevent his fruition much longer!  
Smiling as the warmth and comfort of comprehension spread throughout my mind and body, I silently mouthed the realization of the Goddess' plan. "Oh my friend...to have prolonged a life, insignificant or not, only to destroy that very thing moments later... "  
What but this would unleash the demons that rage inside of the vessel?

I wanted, still, to feel some regret, but the elation and anticipation consumed me like a fire. And, as with any blaze, the flames held me transfixed. Settling in to watch, I channeled patience, waiting for my moment.  
Waiting for when the man before me shattered.

 _Legend shall speak_

A clatter jerked me awake.  
I had slept. Rage! How, after all of this...could I have slept! I cursed the kindness I'd shown this troublesome villain before. There would be no great tale of decline now.  
 _How long have I been waiting here?_ Terror struck for just a moment as I worried that I'd missed the chance at a grand entrance, but something seemed to calm me from within. Faith. Faith that the clatter had been for me, another token from the Goddess to ensure I would be ready for my scene.  
Two voices sounded now, one lost, one depleted.

 _Of sacrifice at the world's end_

Somehow they both still lived. Frustrated, I moved to end this game, knowing it was time.  
Whatever I told the insects later, well they would have no choice but to believe my tale. When there are no other witnesses, the winner tells the story. And _I_ would be the hero - the winner - it would be _my_ story!

 _The wind sails over the water's surface_

I unsheathed Rapier, slowly creeping down the final steps.

 _Quietly, but surely_

One last painfully desperate plea erupted from the sprite. The words held a poetic lilt and candor, so despite my body's urge to quickly end the show, I forced myself to wait. It would be my offering, in thanks to the sprite for her noble sacrifice, to allow her one last monologue.

"Tell me - hey - do you believe in fate? That all is set in stone beforehand?" The pain and anguish coating every word...it excited me, touched my very soul. My victory was oh-so close, and I could taste its sweetness!  
 _Of course, that is why I'm here little sprite. To claim my destiny,_ I thought in reply while slowly moving closer.

Giddy as I reached the library's main floor, more nonsense accosted and attacked me; the forest creature's pleading touched uncomfortable places in my mind.  
Chipped at my certainties in a way I still do not believe possible for mere words to do. Perhaps her magic tried to taint me?  
But I would _not_ break, not this day! Not before my villain broke the sprite, and he was very close to crushing her already! This was not how I would wish to go, but bittersweet is still, in some way, sweet. I had been planning for so long, and had put in so much effort, there would be no turning back.

"You are wrong in that Seh-fea-roth," the little fae was struggling to speak through her pain; I admired that she was able to continue at all. I also wondered if the villain could even recognize his name in such a state, with or without the accent. And something about that accent, puzzling and unfamiliar as it was, did...things...to me. I continued to listen, enraged by my own continued hesitation after so long a wait, but unable to complete the task just yet.

 _Goddess, if you see fit, please lend me fortitude!  
_ The prayer did seem to bolster my reserve, even as the sprite tried to chip away at it with her false optimism and delirious hope. I knew there was no hope! I had written the final chapter myself, dammit!  
Yet, somehow, the bitch dared directly contradict me! "Nothing is written, understand? Fate is not a story already on the paper, that's not what it is. Fate is a choice. Fate is whatever gods or chaos you believe in setting up the pieces, but it's _you_ \- you hear me - you make that choice, nobody else!"

No! The silly sprite was wrong - this was my destiny! How dare she claim otherwise? That rage and anger at her insolence finally got me moving again. We had planned for every possibility, and I would deal the final strike if it came down to that.  
 _Who would not choose greatness, even if choice were such a thing?  
_ Of course this had been written for _me_...had it not?

I felt twinge of sorrow for the little creature - choking now...well, being choked as it was. She was dying well, without fear or panic, on the verge of being violated by his the villain's inner demon.  
A sickened part of me could not wait to watch, maybe find release myself as a consolation for the wait...I swear to you that part did not truly feel like me, but what else could it have been? It had been ages since I'd played around with any woman.  
Yes, I knew that part was sick, but still I sat and only watched, wondering if she might enjoy it.

 _*Ahem*  
_ "Really Genesis?! You were going to watch!? Were going to...to just sit and... Oh Gaia, and - _and_ _what_ had you said?" again that pesky voice broke into my reverie.  
"Yes, for a second. I'm not proud, and I didn't...so just let me finish, okay? I need this off of my chest!"  
"Yeah, but...man..." he sighed, severely disappointed in my actions, I could tell. Angeal was not wrong in feeling that.  
"I know...I wasn't...probably **am not** well, still. But, I'm trying..." I release my own tired sigh, preparing the final chapter of my tale.

Anyway, my prize was in reach, but still I thought it best to let his own hands finish the job. Innocent blood is so much harder to wash off of a hero's glove than a villain's. I was still ignoring the looming doubt, that dark cloud of 'what am I doing?' that had formed above our heads. Looking back, I do not think the Goddess should be named as such...the entity that offered me aid, comfort, and visions could not be _my_ Goddess, no.

But, I did not know that at the time, and was preparing for the final strike.  
"No, _*sigh*_ no more gambles," as with any incantation, I believed that saying it aloud would help. Now that I had made that promise, there was no choice but to act.  
I circled the room's perimeter, doubting I'd be seen even if walking straight up to them. Both the villain and the sprite seemed far away, their eyes in a world very far from this one. Oh, and _her_ eyes, _that_ was a mesmerizing sight; I almost found myself lost again in the unbelievable mixture of vacancy and life!  
I _was_ lost, for a moment, but something shook me free; we had work to do.  
And I would risk no further gambles, keeping to the shadows when I could.

A wise move.  
As I came up behind the pair, I saw that my once friend now clawed at his prey, frenzied as if some beast controlled his arms. Yet, despite this gore and violence, I swore that tears will leaking from his eyes, and I wondered what sort of villain mourned their victims. My own thoughts and doubts gained strength in their intrusion, tearing holes throughout my meticulously laid out script!

 _What...? He shouldn't have the control remaining...the presence to...  
_ I shook myself, told myself, _it_ _doesn't matter.  
_ Though impressed, I was discouraged that he had managed to release the choke, instead tearing at the sacrifice's neck and shoulders. Would he break then, knowing the sprite's death was made that much more painful...drawn out to make her suffer before the inevitable end? Would _that_ finally be my moment, when bones crushed so easily in hand!?  
Whether this was still the Goddess' trial or not, my patience - and to a point, my faith in my own fate - was dwindling.

I had to give the girlsprite credit - for as deep as our villain's nails were embedded into her flesh...crushing and tearing...  
She continued to chant, unstoppable, and almost smiling despite the struggle to draw breath. A dark bruise already mared the tender flesh our villain had earlier grasped, and others - whose specific cause I had not seen - were beginning to show as well. I wondered if forest sprites were blessed with some inability to feel pain...  
Something told me they were not.

Still, I know a few women who would've gladly traded places, but those ones would be moaning - in agony, ecstasy, or both - at that point. The little pixie appeared stoic, serene...her perseverance would have been awe inspiring in any moment but that _one_. In that moment, it was just another frustration added to the pile.  
She spoke in some unknown language, and again I was forced to pause, marveling at the glow - not just of her jewelry, but of the faerie's eyes. They were the most amazing, luminescent greys and violets...

 _Go!_ As if in protest, my own subconscious barked an order, shaking off the witch's spell. I had stalled long enough. Destiny was waiting!  
But as I raised my blade to end the story, the villain caught my eye again. Though, honestly, I had doubts those unfocused irises saw anything but horror in that second. Blind or not, somehow he still fought against the madness, and I saw the word upon his lips, "Choice?..."

That word again.  
That doubt again.  
I paused, _again_!

 _Even if the morrow is barren of promises  
_ _Nothing shall forestall my return_

No matter. The time for hesitation had come and gone, though niggling thoughts slowed my movement.  
I did not understand why the pair fought still, this end was written long ago. Could they not accept their fates with dignity?  
 _You always were the obstinate one, Sephiroth, never could just let something go,_ I thought, inviting a pang of longing for the simple times of SOLDIERs past. How I missed those days; the nostalgia only triggered further uncertainty and questions.  
 _Are we slaves to circumstance, the die cast before our birth? Would that be truly a life?_

As I brought my blade down, harnessing a surge of anger so that I might finish the deed for good, recognition sparked in the villain's eyes.  
No, I saw...in my...my friend's eyes. What had that been? I might never know, but chose that moment to name the look determination, and later re-dubbed it Valor. And then I noticed pain as Rapier tore, first through the man's left shoulder, then also through the wing that sprouted from it.

It was not without some further harm that the sprite herself was pushed from the sword's path, but pushed away she was. Never had my friend moved with such a lack of grace, but I could find no joy in his uncoordinated blunder.  
Then, as if some string snapped within my mind, I faltered, watching as they landed in a bloody heap, feathers floating in the air and covering the uncanny duo like a blanket. Or maybe like a sheet over their corpses.  
Through this covering, though, I could make out certain details - my friend wore no armor, nor his famous weapon. Was this not opening night? Dress rehearsal in the least?  
 _Sword...?_

The villain hadn't even a sword nearby, though appeared to reach for one while falling onto the forest sprite, spent and following his prey to final rest.  
The damn of questions finally burst, flooding me with hesitation while casting my own beliefs in a new, distrustful light. What villain carries no sword? Wears no armor? What villain could have held _that_ look within his eyes?  
How was I to be the hero if there was no great conflict?  
Was _this_ to be my 'great' ending?  
It did not sit well with me to think these things, but my mind would not grant silence or reprieve.

 _To become the dew that quenches the land_

Was this fumbled farce supposed to be my epic battle and finale?  
All of the work and planning, then the hero was to stab his friend in the _back?  
_ After he'd fallen, giving his last to save an innocent? An innocent that I had also planned on murdering, or at least witnessing her execution?

In a way this was all my doing, but there was no honour in it. To so blatantly disobey his fate...I felt an admiration for my former friend. "Oh, Sephiroth..." I could only shake my head in shame.  
The jealousy I'd felt for nearly our entire career together evaporated from my soul. And, I think, so did some of the darkness that had been growing there as well.  
"Fuck..."

 _To spare the sands, the seas, the skies_

What calamity hath I wrought?  
How many I had planned to let fall, to be killed if he'd gone the violent route, before swooping in as saviour? And yet he would not give me even this _one_ victim, despite being in a state of near delirium? The idea that I had been prepared to stand aside for a time, propping my own glory upon the bodies of innocents...Gaia, that thought disgusted me.  
I felt shame as I never had before.

My friend...that had not been him, the villain, at all; not in those final moments.  
Neither a prisoner of mind, nor an object of destruction.  
 _Not a monster.  
_ But a hero, Sephiroth - favoured by the true Goddess - her avatar the sprite willing to sacrifice, to suffer, just to try to save his life.  
Of all people, it _would_ be him to disobey destiny...stubborn, magnificent bastard.

So what did that leave me to be, and where would I go now? If he could be saved...could I? A small part of me wonders what kind of succubus I'd been serving, so eager for reward, and if the damage might be permanent. Gaia what's been wrong with me these past few years? No true deity would have asked a man to butcher his longtime comrade.

I decided that it didn't matter, that it was over.  
I'd failed.  
I'd become the villain.

 _I offer thee this silent sacrifice_

Approaching the bodies with the thought, perhaps, that I could offer at least a prayer before succumbing to my own misery, I wept. Now occupying that space, once filled with darkness and a need for retribution, there was nothing. Emptiness is a strange feeling, after subsisting on hatred for so long.  
And not amount of regret would ever let me find redemption.

I had read the _scrolls_ \- none escape the final fate...I did not believe the hero lived. Considering the alternative, I found myself appreciating Hollander, now unhinged and laughing like a madman at the thought!  
 _Rest in peace, all of us,_ it was time to end this story. We could still be cleansed by the flame, I would see to that and gladly light the funeral pyre. Truly, I was done with...everything.  
Cut.  
Scene.  
End.

Searching for a candle, a lamp, or anything to invite the inferno into which I would cast myself willingly...I heard a sound.  
It had been a whimper, if anything...and yes, fire materia had left my mind, for some odd reason.  
"Angel..."

The sprite, was she truly an avatar of the Goddess to have lived? That miracle was not my doing though, only chance. I could feel no happiness or joy in the discovery. So much was still lost. So much that _was_ my doing.  
It was difficult to believe at first, but while closing the eyes of my friend and former mentor - one final show of respect - a tickle graced my hand.  
A breath! A breath of hope, a breath of fucking life!

Perhaps...I - maybe _we_ could still be saved? No, I wouldn't be 'the' hero...but one of many, taking one small step towards redemption. Inner turmoil had caused my hesitation earlier...and still stormed strong within my mind; I wondered how it had been so easy to suppress before.  
But, to have a hero...who was wont to stab his friend in the back? After spurring on his fall from grace?  
There was no honour in what I'd done. I had doubts there could be forgiveness, either.

Ahhh!  
Honour, Justice...Sacrifice...my whole life I'd wanted to be special; I'd wanted to be, no I'd wanted to _beat_ Sephiroth. But I knew nothing of the true path, nor of what he'd really sacrificed or suffered. I had tried to pay in others' blood for what could only be bought with...? Hell, I didn't even know the currency, let alone the _cost_!  
I never had. For all my talk, it had been ages...

 _Since I'd felt like a true SOLDIER, even before I left.  
_ "...since I'd acted with anything but anger and hatred staining my heart.  
Then, as if to punctuate that thought, Angeal stalked into the room, 'I've taken care of Zack...at least for now.'  
'I'm right here - you could say 'that's about when you walked in,' he added.  
'I'm. being. dramatic. It's kind of my thing...anyway... Hmm, for now? He's not dead then? The puppy?' I asked, secretly relieved. There was still time - it was time to choose the heroic...nay, the honourable path.  
'No, I...I couldn't finish...' the white winged man trailed off, eyes fixed down and on the bloodstained floor.  
I'd corrupted even my best friend... Could he even begin to forgive me?  
Should he?"

 _*cough*  
_ _*glare*  
_ "It was a profound realization! Anyway we're caught up, so whatever, I'll speak 'normally' now, as any boring person would, okay?"  
"You were staring at me the same way Palmer leers at butter," Angeal's voice dropped to a whisper when he added, "and at me, as if _I_ was some pinnacle of honour. You of all people know I'm no authority on what is right, not anymore..."

"My friend, to compare yourself to that useless blob? Of all the similes... _*tsk*_ You, my friend, are in much better shape. No living being should be so round." We both smiled, but my warmhearted colleague's seemed forced. Indeed, he should have been here to see the magnificence in person. Even Angeal would have appreciated the spectacle! But, alas, I was the only witness. Perhaps that was for the best, and internally I vowed to never again mention the tears I'd seen in Sephiroth's eyes.

 _Still, I haven't smiled like this, or at all, in ages! And to attempt a joke...despite...  
_ Seldom do good things last, and I could see that Angeal was relieved, but not nearly as renewed with hope as I. And I knew it was my fault; he never would have left without my goading, even after finding out the truth of our distasteful origins. The realization that, had Angeal remained, that perhaps Sephiroth might have had somebody to support him...that was too much and the final straw.

I found myself sitting on the floor, back to the wall, with one hand upon my unconscious friend's chest. Just thinking.  
I rejoiced, ecstatic with each rise and fall, and steeling my newfound resolve; but also felt disgusted, knowing that I'd helped to cause the situation. Sephiroth's own words from the reactor echoed in my head, "not like this..."  
Here, as we are now. I've still done nothing good.  
It has been all I could do to embrace inaction... but good is not the absence of evil.  
It was time for action again.

And so I began, "No, Angeal...that's good, about Zack. I was wrong...about all of it. Heh, I remember sitting through your lectures on bravery, honour...justice - so bored. I saw these things not as traits of a hero, but tools to be used, spent but not embraced, to become one of the chosen. All a means to an end, but with no real substance. I had physical strength...the rest was a costume for the masses - not truly necessary in my mind." The derision I'd shown my friend, and how I'd mocked his ideals openly until he himself gave them up, was despicable.  
Then, only to beg that he would crawl back to them? I am a hypocrite, a failure, a fraud.

I had been so wrong, it is from _those_ ideals that true strength sprouts!

 _That_ was the key, it's one who embraces ideals _and_ acts upon them - that is the hero. You don't become a hero, not for _an_ act or _an_ ideal held but not acted upon...or even for actions which hold no real meaning for you; you live your life. You make your _choices,_ and it is the culmination of those choices that nurtures the true spirit of the hero.  
"Angeal, I've done...and because of me we've done...frightful...awful things. Because we were resigned to being monsters. But...we don't have to be. I see that now. Friend?"

The stern man eyed the unconscious pair beside me, a sad look in his eye. He looked as if he wanted to do it- _wanted_ to try going back to his old self, just like that. Angeal was straining to believe me - to believe that we did not have to be monsters. He had never truly wanted this... _I_ had. I was the one who'd rebelled, and who had forced him along with me.  
"Are...?" of course Angeal did not even wish to voice the question.  
"They're alive. Not badly injured, at least physically. The sprite is worse, I think, but not critical." I grimaced, wondering if my friend and former commander would wake up at all...and if so, which version of him had won that war?

"Listen to me Angeal. You know why I'm here...why we're here." I felt like a stupid kid, trying to act out some cartoon. I'd seen our fates in LOVELESS - I'd needed to be that hero. After Hollander told us the truth about what ShinRa had made us, I craved meaning, direction. I'd been desperate for things to make sense again, any kind of sense at all. I'd seen it as impossible that any other outcome could ever be possible. I was an idiot!  
"I brought you...brought many of my friends into this...this charade. Into this...obsession of mine."

I had been so sure...so driven! But now, looking down upon the bloodied mess of a man who had been my good friend for nearly a decade, and the little fae who was ready to sacrifice herself for him - seemingly asking nothing in return - that drive evaporated.  
 _Fuck the fates - if they do exist, they are beyond even cruel. We three...we four will write a new story, together, I hope._

"I finally saw it today, Angeal. You were always right, I just refused to see it. Not just the lectures, the 'honour' - but everything. Even that I put too much faith in that old play. That story written long ago; an incomplete story written for lives already lived, and choices already made. My gift...my offering is this new lesson, one I picked up upon much faster. I want everything to be okay again."

Stern and glowering, Angeal did not smile warmly as I'd hoped. No, the man glared at me, on the verge of fury. "What are you saying, Genesis? That I can just flip a switch and go back to whatever normal is for things like us? What is that anyway?!"  
...I was not sure how this next part would go. But, at least I could die happily if I hadn't also failed Angeal, hadn't left him broken and hopeless. My all though, I had to give, to convince him. If only to save the lives of those who had saved me in some sense.

"Angeal, we - through no fault, choice, or mistake on our own part - were born of what some consider a monster. This fact I accepted...thought I accepted long ago. I allowed it to consume me, to mold me - giving no thought to why; not seeing my options. But, us - we are still _us_ and we are human in the fact that we possess free will. We do have a _choice_ regarding our fate.  
It is not set in stone, or some book, or even chained to our birth. We...can...choose. That's the difference. Where Jenova may have been a virus, a plague, even the embodiment desolation itself - it, that inhuman thing, was driven solely by destructive instinct with no thought into why and no will of its own. We, though, we can ask 'why' and we can say 'no'. We can be...better. We can be better than the ones who made us like this, right?"

My continued weeping seemed to throw Angeal; it threw me, honestly, but I was a broken man. For all of my theatrics, I had not truly felt the comforting warmth of real passion for quite some time. What I'd felt before had been the firestorms of hatred, and they nearly consumed me in the end.  
Angeal had always been a good man, the best man I knew. I hoped he could see now that we could help each other make the right choices going forward.

My friend remained gloomy, though, still fighting some internal battle. "You speak of honour, justice - what of regret, _friend_?" Angeal spat the last word. "You expect me to just...change my mind! Again? And for what, exactly? Words...ideals...even some pitiful action here? They don't mean anything anymore. What the fuck are choices if I don't know what I'm choosing anymore? What are options if none are satisfying? Even in this last year or so, what have we been able to change? Every shot we took at ShinRa was countered and covered up! There is no 'right' - there is only what ShinRa wants." The man held his sword, poised to attack.

As if the Goddess herself had heard the words, the sprite, the avatar...burrowed...closer into Sephiroth, speaking softly, "Angel...I knew you would choose life," smiling still as her blood soaked into the silver hair that draped her body like a cloak.

Disturbed, I assume, by the almost direct answer from what must have been the true Goddess, my friend Angeal - winged white as if in nod to his name - the best of us but last to recognize it, sheathed his sword.  
"Okay - I'll listen, at least, but no promises. What happened here, anyway? Why did you 180 suddenly?"

And so I began..."It was not my wish to cause my friend such anguish. Forgive me that much, I implore."

 _\- The circle is complete, but_ does _the morrow offer promise? -_


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: So, editing this chapter went well, easy-breezy compared to the last few things I've worked on; this was nice.  
_ _I do hope this chapter is nice for y'all - I know things have been a bit claustrophobic up to now, and working on this chapter was like a breath of fresh air._

 _Initially I had some reservations with regards to just how easy this all seemed, but trauma does that sometimes. I think right now, our friends are all just desperate for something normal and familiar. I'm sure, as time goes by, the need for explanations will outweigh that craving for what's familiar and mundane; shock wears off et cetera. We'll see - either way, I know they all needed to breathe, at least for a little while._

 _This chapter and the next will be shorter - that fresh air is even more apparent in the next part (which should come soon - it's ~92% edited, I just saw a really good breakpoint here, and would rather have a chapter break then just an horizontal rule), but we can still get some oxygen as things fade back to normalcy._

* * *

 _\- Four figures in the basement - two pacing and two still... -_

Genesis had nearly finished recounting his version of events when Sephiroth's consciousness began returning. Immediately, the general knew he wasn't in a 'normal' situation - normal is not pained, lying on the floor - and so he kept his newfound awareness hidden, working at his own recollections as well as identifying details surrounding the current situation.

 _I know those voices...Genesis? Was that Angeal asking questions just now?  
_ Sephiroth questioned his own memories, which gave the distinct impression that he'd been desperate to _dodge_ the redhead's sword just before losing consciousness. But this idea did not match what he was hearing.  
Believing his former comrades were not so stupid as to allow him to wake, should the case indeed be that former scenario - and in no mood or condition to begin a new fight - the tactician concentrated on breathing evenly while listening to the nearby conversation. He believed that, eventually, their true motivations might be revealed.

Genesis was exasperated, answering unheard queries, "I don't know - well, no - honesty from here on out. _*sigh*_ He was choking her, yeah, but - this was _Sephiroth!_ The only way she'd still be in one piece was that he'd been fighting it, trying to resist that compulsion. 'Geal, the man's hand basically circled her whole neck, it would not have been much work to crush it closed. I can't imagine what it took not to. Huh?  
Oh, I suppose you don't know. The fail-safe, the conditioning I'd read about in the notes here...before. One last cruel gift from psycho-Hojo - some type of embedded hypnosis. Activated him like some WuTai sleeper agent from those B-grade spy movies we used to watch."

"That doesn't make sense. They're movies, everyone knows that you can't really do that. Even with materia, it's difficult to control someone efficiently." Angeal was finally speaking loudly enough for Sephiroth to hear; for a moment both men were yelling much louder than necessary, considering their proximity.  
"Says the guy with fucking wings?" Rhapsodos did have a point, there. "You've missed the point Angeal. Listen, I read the research, it _has_ to be that. Like I said, how else would she not be dead?"  
"Yeah, I guess you're right. But still...motherfucker...do you think we...?"  
"Probably not. _That._..that trick was Hojo's pride and joy, apparently; even Hollander is a saint next to the creep. He wouldn't have done something like that."

Sephiroth lay still, on his side. The 'sprite' - as Genesis had called Kilara - was slightly under him, and the larger man discreetly ensured that she was both breathing and not too terribly crushed. Hearing the account of what he'd done...no not _him_ \- but of what had happened, caused a new kind of pain and ache to spread both fire and ice across his chest.  
 _Stupid girl,_ he thought, regretting use of the word immediately. _Silly girl, maybe. Silly, silly girl. Why'd you have to go and get hurt again? Why, it seems, for me?  
_ Not that Sephiroth _wanted_ to deeply ponder outcomes where she hadn't been there to...to do whatever it was she'd done.

Genesis' voice cut into his distraction, again responding to a question Sephiroth had not bothered hearing. "I was still consumed by my own needs and this crazy drive to live out some hero-villain fantasy. I'd had the most vivid dreams...but, whatever. I saw him, 'Geal...his eyes, right at the end...  
I guess whatever incantation, if you could call it that, worked. I saw Seph's eyes come back to life, I swear. He was _him_ again, and he was staring right _at_ me, questioning almost. 'Why?' I guess, when I really think about it, I didn't have a good answer. Fuck, I felt like such a fraud; who bases their life solely on a play!?"

On the floor, Sephiroth smirked - he and Angeal both had been trying to convince Genesis of that point for years. The thought of Angeal, eyes shining with humour and wisdom even though he hid the smile - _that_ look - was a nostalgic comfort. It was also a painful memory, though Sephiroth tentatively considered possibilities that the bad blood between the three firsts might be cleansed. Without being able to judge expressions or other body language, he knew it would be best to wait, to listen, and - of course - to not hope _too_ much.

A rustling of fabric meant that, likely, Gen' had struck melodramatic pose; this was good in that it meant the self-indulgent soliloquy was almost at an end. That fiery personality and flare could get...tiresome, if left unchecked. Though, all things considered, perhaps the zeal for drama was justified this time; Sephiroth doubted any of them would ever be the same again.  
 _In either case,_ it was not an opportune moment for mental drifting; the general's own memories were fractured and hazy when it came to those final moments before the true blackness took him. _What else happened? Why did we all just...stop?_

"It was too late, though, Rapier was moving and I couldn't stop it! I did what I could to deflect, but it was the last second. We all know Seph, though - he pushed the sprite down, trying to dive out of the way. I only grazed his arm and shoulder because he'd turned to shield the little thing, instead of properly throwing her down. Magnificent bastard..."

There were more shuffling sounds, followed by the same voice - Genesis - continuing from an even closer position. Sephiroth was concerned his former subordinate would kneel down, discovering the ruse and eavesdropping, but that did not occur. Rhapsodos' intuition appeared to be functioning in other areas, though, and a hand that had been reaching down toward Kilara was retracted with a heavy sigh. "I'm afraid he may have injured the pixie when he did that, but less so than I would have. _*sigh*_ I sort of hope he doesn't remember. I could see that...that hurting her was not his intent."

Sephiroth did remember. Not crystalline or clearly, but close enough to count.  
 _Wall...squeeze...crush...destroy...choice...eyes...Genesis...throw...fuck!_

With the energy it took to remain still while pushing those recollections aside, coupled with a renewal of that unidentified internal pain, the wounded man's other sense awoke fully. The scent of blood mingled with orange blossoms and permeated the basement's damp, stale air. Sephiroth could feel Kilara's shallow, ragged breathing against his side and mentally clung to the sensation as a way to remain anchored to the present.  
 _Alive..._

He had checked earlier, in an automatic fashion; battle training, so ingrained he needn't think, had never fully reached conscious understanding. Now, the warmth, the breath, the meaning of it all - _*alive!*_ \- struck, hard. Sephiroth couldn't remember ever being happier than this. He had won, against all predicted odds!  
He had won, but questioned the costs involved.

"But it didn't look fatal. Speaking of, though - I'd said I wanted to be...to do something good. I think this is the place to start." Genesis let out a heavy sigh, "Even if he won't forgive me. I don't care about the forgiveness or the fame any longer..."  
"What did you have in mind?" a hesitant Angeal asked.  
"Help me carry them up? We need to be careful with the small one, her collarbones have _got_ to be shattered, if there's any structure left intact at all. I...it was that or her neck..." sounding troubled, the redhead shook himself. "We can get a better look upstairs. C'mon, cold rock and damp floors are never good for healing."  
"Yeah, I guess so. Okay then." Sephiroth heard the resolute reply and sighed internally.

* * *

 _Just a moment longer...  
_ They were correct, though. Kilara needed help...because of what I'd done to her. The thought was far from pleasant, but no voice taunted me to rub it in this time - small victories I suppose. I could see that her neck was bruised almost black, and deeper wounds than my trimmed nails should have allowed - some _just_ missing vital veins or arteries - stretched from Kilara's chin down to her elbows and across her chest. The risk of infection was high, considering our environment, and every moment she wasn't being healed increased those chances.  
 _Oh Gaia...what...why? I'm so...I didn't even get to...know..._

I felt empty save for shame and something new - despair? At this point, the greater implications of Kilara's existence were far from the forefront of my mind; this was a...a personal pain. Even when Genesis, and then Angeal, left - I had felt a sense of betrayal, and maybe even hurt, but nothing like this _loss.  
_ _The things we'd shared, unbelievable as they were...and that she's like me...fuck._

I would have wanted, I think I _had_ wanted, to be Kilara's friend. I'd wanted to understand her...thought maybe she might understand me in return, better then Gen' or Angeal ever could have. But now? Now I held no expectations the girl would wish to speak to me, not ever again. Her eyes, they would probably never again trap my own - willful, defiant, and beautiful in some strange way - not after _this_.  
 _Nobody owes you absolution, now pull yourself together - we still don't know why_ they _are here.  
_ **My** mind, the logical part anyway, was correct, of course. Before preparing to face my guests, I allowed one last, lingering inspection of the tiny figure curled somewhat into my arms. She was clinging to me again, though I couldn't say when or why the relocation had transpired.

 _It will never be enough, but I apologize...heh, little angel.  
_ Kilara's eyes were closed, and I wondered at their colour, surprised and shaken by my own impending sense of sorrow. She wore a wan smile, as if my thought on angels could have amused her. In truth, I was content to pretend she might not be - might not have been - in too much pain. Almost, I could convince myself her mind had been far away enough to not feel it.  
 _But how?  
_ In truth, I had given up on understanding anything from recent days, at least not any time soon. We could not have been acquainted for more than a day, but every waking moment had been some new, refreshing kind of intimate. I had no idea how to feel about that, and did not wish to feel the things I did. It was time to focus!

Yes, it would do Kilara no good to stay there like that; it was time to pay for my own sins as well. Without yet moving to rise, I spoke, channeling the part of myself who was...once...the pair's commanding officer. "No need, gentleman. Your concern is noted, but stand down for now." As I'd expected, ingrained training took over; the intruders stopped to listen, waiting for additional orders or dismissal. Neither had turned to face me yet, but I recognized well the pose each man adopted.

"I fear that Genesis' evaluation is correct. It may be worse to move K...the girl's arms." I thought I'd heard Genesis whisper 'goddess' under his breath; he would say something strange, yet appropriate, like that. "As they're already...where they are, it may be best that I transport her. I believe I have the strength remaining."  
Actually, I was exhausted, but refused to let any further harm come to Kilara. I would _find_ the strength to ensure both her safety and her comfort. I prayed that would be the only strength I needed, then forced a blank expression and focused on my (former?) friends.

Both men were tense, and turning slowly in my direction. I allowed myself some amusement at the fact that they could have seen me, drained and flat on the floor - blood matting my disheveled hair - as a threat. I thought it best to ensure any situations were not escalated, though, and met each man's eyes accordingly; Genesis was trying not to look ashamed, and Angeal's whole face overflowed with questions - both good signs, as far as things go. After Kilara was taken care of, maybe then we could look into this 'forgiveness' business, but only _after_ she was well.

"I've been conscious for some time now - and if my hearing has not been damaged, I believe that you two have no intention to cause further harm. Rest assured that the same is true of me to you, at least for the time being. I...am not certain what we will do from here, but my goal is not that we kill each other today or soon. Genesis...I," What could I say?

 _Perhaps the truth?  
_ My own thoughts, refreshingly helpful, were not incorrect, despite the difficulty of their suggestion. It took a deep inhalation, followed by a slowed breath out before the words began to form. Our eyes remained locked, but without the usual struggle for dominance, as I spoke. "It is unfortunate that we are in this situation in which we've found ourselves, and though I can hope I would not have done the same, given a reversal of positions, I can...begin to understand your actions, I believe. We should speak further on the matter, later, my friend." I wondered if he'd catch the reference, despite keeping derision from my tone.

I paused; this was _not_ like me. Not long ago - perhaps only hours - those two would be rotting corpses...but so might Kilara.  
 _Hmm...this might not be a change for the worst,_ I thought. Working to not jostle the tiny girl too badly, I prepared to rise, but froze, horrified. I'd gingerly turned Kilara's limp body in my arms, just to get a better hold, and now was face to face with the torture I'd inflicted...Fuck! Even earlier, I had avoided close inspection.  
 _She'd just...smiled...the whole time...?_

Just as it was difficult to find my voice, it was work to push away the pain and pressure in my chest and to keep a dignified expression. Whether necessary or not I didn't know, but the safe route would be showing my former subordinates the general that they knew - hard and unfazed by anything, no matter how unpleasant. I did not want them trying to use Kilara against me; I would have not choice but to kill them if they did, and I still did not know their true intentions.  
Standing, composure intact, I headed for the stairway, head cocked sideways to address the pair. "But for this moment, your assistance would be appreciated. The less jarring I can make this, for us both, the better."

This was more true than they knew - I was exhausted, unsure how or why I was even awake and mobile, but thankful for any adrenaline that might keep me going just a while longer. With effort, and what appeared to be no additional damage to...to what Genesis may have been correct to call a goddess, we arrived on the main floor.  
Not wanting to risk another flight of steps, fatigue swiftly returning, I directed us to a small servant's room not far from the library entrance. I had wanted to put Kilara into her own bed...or perhaps mine - if only to monitor her condition closely - but my initial adrenaline was fading fast. These accommodations would have to do.

"Genesis - do you remember how to find the master quarters?" I queried. It was a simple test, and one whose failure should not invite much danger.  
"Yes, sir - up and end of the hall."  
"Good. In the tallest dresser, top drawer...behind a false back...you'll find restore materia. There is sterile cloth and alcohol in the master bathroom cabinet; I'm not sure I have the..." I would have found the energy, if necessary, but it seemed my associates would pass this test.  
"It's okay sir," Genesis' interruption did not bother me in this instance, nor did his hand steadying my arm; Kilara was in no way heavy, but every cell in my body felt drained. "We'll handle it. It's...good to see you again." Angeal nodded, but was not able to meet my eyes for more than half a second before his own returned to the floor, shoulders slumped. I wondered if he felt guilty about the initial betrayal, or something else.

Despite the lingering concern, I attempted my own weak smile and nodded to the men, not yet ready to speak of...those matters. I _had_ missed my friends. Were they my friends, even before? I did not...interact with them much, outside of work, in the later days. I had not before those either, to be honest. But, for the time being, my need was to focus on the immediate and much, much more important.  
 _And about that...hmm  
_ The bed in this room was a custom twin; I'd had each one in the mansion replaced with 'extra long' versions so that I, or any taller SOLDIER, could nap comfortably. The length was not an issue, and with Kilara's petite frame, the width would likely not be a worry either. My hesitation was more in question of what might be appropriate, and also what would not invite my guests to speculate too deeply on the woman's value to me.  
 _I_ did not wish to speculate too deeply on that, either, not until I had a chance to try to understand.

Angeal, always the honourable one, sensed my indecision and offered an out, and an alternative to prying Kilara off or setting her down completely. The girl had, after all, attached herself quite tightly to my person. "Why don't you sit then lie back, it would be best that we try to not move the joints much until they've been at least partially healed." I got the feeling that he didn't want me looking any more closely at the damage either.  
That was probably for the best. I wouldn't admit it out loud, but my mind felt...fragile, now that the blanket - or whatever that sensation was - had faded. Now that _she_ was fading.  
Each...emotion? felt raw, scouring directly on exposed nerves I'd thought long dead or damaged.

I hesitated, waiting before voicing agreement, but no voices came; no perverse accusations rang in my head or flashed behind my eyes.  
 _Dare I hope...  
_ "Thank you, Angeal - yes perhaps that would be the best solution. I'd like to try just sitting first, though." I was too exhausted to consider the implications, should the poor thing wake up now and not remember why she might be injured; realizing things might be worse if she did, then found herself in my grip...lying in a bed. Luckily my instincts seemed to catch that slip.  
Life in the moment was all I could manage consciously. Not like me at all...

To his credit, Genesis kept back any inappropriate comments or retorts when he returned with the supplies. For all the times he'd tried to goad me into taking a woman to bed...even tried to trick me once or twice, the salacious bastard. I know he'd meant well, and hadn't known my reasons...I had not known those reasons, not consciously, until recently.  
Well, I was sure he'd make up for the self-restraint another time. It would hurt to laugh at the irony now, and I was not sure I _could_ truly smile, so I settled for inward mirth and a look that was sure to keep him quiet on the subject for a while longer.

"Ready?" Angeal asked both Genesis and I, receiving a nod from each of us in turn. "You know the drill, Seph, sorry if it stings a bit." My friend readied the materia, connecting to its power with deep concentration. I grunted, trying not to squeeze Kilara with too much force while holding us both as still as possible.  
"One moment," sitting up was becoming difficult, and I did not want a jarring fall, so laid back and situated Kilara as much beside, rather than atop, me as her damaged shoulders would allow. "Appreciated." They switched off control of the restore with still more work ahead.

My adrenaline ebbed farther as injuries and bruises faded, at least until I felt my friends untangling the girl's arms from around my neck. I wanted to protest, she'd still felt so cold and had been shivering...but I feigned sleep instead, not sure how far I could trust them. I wanted surprise on my side, should they decide to turn on me; the timing of Genesis' arrival had been almost too perfect.  
 _Best they don't realize...importance...  
_ True sleep was coming quickly anyway, confirming a truth I had not wanted to admit - even General Sephiroth has his limits, both physical and mental.  
 _I will have to trust them, just as I will have to sleep very, very soon._

Then...voices - voices that I knew were here with me, in the room - voices that were real.  
"No. Stay...angel, please?"  
"Any idea what..."  
"I don't know, but really it would be easier to monitor both in here; to make sure I didn't miss anything. You know restore was never my specialty."  
"Fair enough - shifts then? I'll go first."  
"Sounds good, wake me in a few hours."  
Something was placed next to me, and I caught the scent of orange blossoms and felt shivering...  
 _Cold?...  
_ I shifted my arms and rolled onto my side, embracing her, the true angel, and sharing what warmth I could offer. Acting on instinct...on what what felt...right.

"Heh...hehe..."  
If that was one of them snickering...well we'd deal with that after some well earned sleep.  
I would have many, more important, decisions to make - and all too soon at that.

 _\- Sweet dreams again so soon?_ _-_


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Provided the breaks work out, I might try for shorter chapters. Those 10-12k edits take a lot of time...and a lot out of me, especially since I decided it a good idea to work on two or three stories every week. Part of this is why I've not even started posting up the other two yet, but we'll get there._

 _Anyway, yes yes yes it is about time. I'll try to not let that other project be so much of a bother to this one..._

 _Regarding G and caffeine - yeah originally Mr. Fair was the other in this scene...but that broke something I wanted to do later. A touch out of character, sure, but explained away...and I'll be damned if I don't agree that bastard needs to tone it down re: dramatics._

* * *

 _\- It wouldn't do to allow a peaceful sleep this soon after... -_

The scene played on, jittery like a stop-motion picture missing far too many frames. Never had I felt so fucking helpless, not even in the labs when I was younger.  
An improvised weapon dropped to the floor, but its metallic clang barely registered over the cacophony raging fiercely in my skull. I could only stare, reeling in horror at what I'd done.  
No, wait, _I_ hadn't done it! Almost...but hadn't.  
Relief? I had to wonder if I...if she'dsurvive another round of _almost._

That sickly sweet, disturbingly familiar voice cut through the noise, carrying with it the odor of burnt sugar and an uncomfortable paralysis; she was stronger than the other demon in my head.  
 _Of all the times to drop your weapon you choose now? Give me those, petulant child!  
_ Grasping, dropping, throwing...those were no longer _my_ hands!  
 _Why are you-me-we doing this!?  
_ _Shhh...it's almost over sweetie stay inside...  
_ Everything was hazy, but I felt calm within the eye of the storm; numb.  
Something soft, wedged between myself and the wall, trembled; the world faded into blacks, greys, and swampy greens.  
Something delicate and tantalizing...  
 _No,_ _you need to look,_ somewhere my mind knew this scene was not the truth and that _calm_ was not correct. Desperate, grasping at anything - anger at the banshee's limp placation - I forced myself to look, to see into the real world.  
Horror.  
Clawing...blood... **eyes!  
** _ **Eyes!**_

"Genesis No!" I bolted upright, immediately regretting the movement, but ignored the lingering pain in search of anything that might help to find my bearings. This was not the basement, and resembled a bedroom; it was not my own, but was one I recognized as within the mansion. Almost, my eyes fell closed again at the realization, but a vaguely familiar shade of red in the corner set my nerves on edge. Turning - carefully this time - to face the colour's source, I felt a growl in my throat.  
Between the nightmare the felt more like memory, and what he'd put me through besides, I saw no need to suppress the lupine warning.

"Seph? Hey it's me, yeah, but it's ok. Remember...friend?" someone was speaking to me, tone cautious if not worried.  
Genesis - I almost failed to recognize him in such a deferential pose; the cocky bastard was actually holding his palms up in a sign of peace, maybe in surrender. This was ideal, considering most of my mind still floated elsewhere, bombarded by necessary, yet unwelcome, recollections.

 _Tried to move...last second,_ the memories were fragmented and hazy; almost I could believe they were only nightmares, desperate and clinging to existence in the waking world. Almost I could believe it all just an unpleasant dream, but the stains on my hands and in my hair, the ruined sweater, Genesis...these visual confirmations accosted me with truth.  
 _This all feels familiar...was I awake before this? Yes. Why?  
_ On the surface I remained calm, naturally impassive, "Of course." Any other day, that might have ended the conversation, but today was not like any other that had come before it.  
 _She...was..._

"Where...?" the word stuck in my throat, threatening to reveal too much, but I feigned well-practiced nonchalance, as if perhaps the girl's name escaped me. Internally, I battled a reaction whose force and strength I had neither expected nor prepared for; with luck the odd pang's effect remained hidden by the room's dim lighting. A swift kick to the solar plexus would have felt less suffocating than my sudden clarity and recollection.  
 _Calm. I expected as much...but...gone already? Was she healed properly?_ _Did they do something, planning to use her against me?  
_ The last thought nearly made me wretch; had it been Angeal in here, with Genesis' whereabouts unknown, I might have.

That tiny space beside me on the bed was now cold and very empty; only the lightest lingering scent of oranges and dry, mako-poisoned blood remained. Kilara would understand, right? She'd looked like she was freezing...I was so tired...it had felt so right. But, the girl had been abused before; _would_ she understand?  
 _I swear it was innocent..._

The only upside to the situation was that, despite a pause and strain to listen, no disembodied voices taunted or berated me. And, thankfully, before I could lose myself to entirely new forms of insanity, Genesis kindly interjected, "The sprite? She's fine - downstairs I think."  
"Sprite?" I asked, latching onto the odd word as a means to propel the conversation forward, still very confused and feeling troubled. If Rhapsodos noticed any slips in my behaviour, he was smart to keep that information to himself.  
 _What is he...how would he...did he know? No, we'd been defenseless - it has to be coincidence._

"Oh man! HAHA Seph, you wouldn't belieee-"  
The unexpected, pain-inducing excitement of the interruption - he apparently could not hold it in a moment longer - was at least somewhat curtailed with a glare, and I considered filing for that proper trademark.  
 _Heh, I'm feeling better after all.  
_ Genesis must've gotten into the coffee pretty early and reminded me, slightly, of Fair in general...bounciness? This was for the best, perhaps - such an altered state offered plausible deniability, and the ability to call into question his recollections of this conversation later. It was good to feel myself, in control, again.  
"Now, you were saying, Rhapsodos?" Courteous and professional was the tactic I chose; enough to evoke memories of our time as coworkers, but leaving no room for sentimental manipulation.

Genesis paced, hands waving wildly as he spoke - somehow with less flourish than I'd expected, despite the caffeine's imparted energy and zeal. "Yeah, that one...phew - listen to this. I talked to 'Geal, and he swears you were both asleep when he came to switch watches with me. Hmm...must've been awake, faking - plucky little thing."  
"Plucky?"  
"Right - plucky! Anyway, so I come in here and go to check on you and the sprite, but I only saw one person there. Just _you,_ lying all...all fucking majestic like you always are." Of course he posed, though in a rather less than majestic manner, if I'm honest. Gen really should have gone into theater instead of letting SOLDIER nearly ruin him.  
"Are you feeling well, Rhapsodos?"

"Yes, never better! Anyway!" Genesis had stopped, completely still; it was a troubling look, though what came next explained the alarmed expression and was, in truth, rather amusing to consider. The smile almost touched my eyes this time.  
"Next thing I know there's a dagger at my... _*ahem*_..." eyes moved to confirm and we both twitched, mostly in good humour. "Well she's not a tall one, that's for sure. So of course I freeze - they don't train you for _that_ shit anywhere! So then the little sprite starts asking questions - who are we, what are we doing, et cetra and all. The nerve!"

 _She's alive...?  
_ I had not believed Kilara wasn't, but the confirmation was still...extremely comforting. Ignoring Gen's raised eyebrow, a reaction to the grin nothing could have hid, I tried steering our conversation away from details that might risk Kilara. "I would call those valid questions, all things considered. I do wonder how you answered..."  
 _Finger to chin for effect and...g_ _ood, he took the diversion._ Of course I was just as interested in why they were here, given the timing especially, as I was concerned with Kilara's whereabouts. With luck, I would find both questions' answers soon, temporarily content to hear she could walk and talk.

Gen still had suspicions, or at least ideas - these were made apparent by the sheepish look my usually suave and carefree comrade wore. "Rhapsodos. Eyes off of the floor, please." Gaia it felt good to be in charge again! I did not want to push it though, and waved a hand as if to confirm wry teasing had been my intent.  
 _Have_ I _had too much coffee? Not that I mind the joviality...hmm..._

"Well, you know I have a flare for the dramatic, so I think to spook her I'd pull out the ol' monste...err no, just the ol' wing. Kind of a jump-scare then laugh thing, yaknow?" I did not, but also hadn't had over a year to cope and come to terms with...things.  
"Girl didn't bat an eyelash. Just shrugged with an, 'I see.' Well...she might've muttered _bastard_ under her breath, but I didn't catch the rest." He stopped, wearing a more serious, pensive look; a much more _Genesis_ look.  
"Strange little thing, but I'm glad she was here for you, I guess. You'll have to give me details sometime...I didn't' think it was - that there was a way to - well nevermind..."

I'd stopped listening, wanting neither to think on those details nor to worry on what could have happened if he'd actually frightened Kilara.  
 _Bastard? Who? They were Hollander's project; he's...better, but by comparison only. Maybe she doesn't know? Oh, I do suppose Genesis is a bit of a bastard either way...heh. She's alive!_

Genesis was talking again, clearing the air of the subject he'd almost broached. "Back to the sprite - so now I'm the confused one again, and not all for risking my manhood just for some dramatics. So I started with a chivalrous bow, 'I'm a friend, trying to help. Really.'  
Guess I wasn't too convincing, though, even though I wasn't even acting." A hand over his heart coupled with feigned offense reminded me of the normal, sober Genesis from years ago.  
 _How had I_ missed _this asshole? How had I pretended not to?_ He could be entertaining at certain times, if not exhausting at most others.

For now, Genesis only toed the lines in-between; I was mildly interested in the story and did not mind or interfere. "'Prove it,' she says, staring daggers at me with those weird...what is that, purple eyes?"  
 _Lavender...and not weird...  
_ "I've heard forest sprites are spunky...but the _nerve_ right? 'You're alive, aren't you - both?' I said - as if it wasn't obvious."  
 _Friends...  
_ My brain was catching up slowly, not just with Kilara's situation, but regarding everything that had happened since the reactor. I felt hazed, but it seemed to be lifting. My mood was also lifting, surprisingly. In fact, I might say that my _everything_ felt lighter than it had in years, or maybe even decades.

I wasn't sure if it was the coffee's effects, or just good memories, but I realized that Gen was also faring better, mentally, than he'd been last we met. Far better, to be certain.  
 _Good. Let us hope the same for Angeal...given what I overheard..._

"Well...?"  
Shaking off the introspection, I hummed, pleased my friend recognized the sign that I was listening - at least well enough. He continued, "Yeah. It apparently wasn't all that obvious, because she looked around, then went to check on you. Smart too, never fully put her back to me - I felt some kinda twitch there - it was weird. Nothing to do with this but... _damn_ that was a weird feeling."  
Gen rubbed at the back of his neck, a bit lower than where I'd felt the odd sensation, but not far off enough to be ignored.  
 _Interesting...  
_ If anything, my definition of impossible was no longer what it used to be, but such considerations were for when I could be alone and better focused. "Anything else?" I asked, pushing aside strange ideas to corral the buzzing redhead.

"Well, then she just shrugs 'okay - sorry...it's been a long days.' Days? Maybe sprites don't all speak Continental. Anyway, for where the little thing went...said something about, 'a need to meditate, will you stay here, make sure...?'" he motioned towards the bed, then slouched as if imitating Kilara. "'I'm not sure how he'll wake up...' She got some look that made even me feel bad, 'if he will...' It was kinda sad, but I think she likes ya...wouldn't let me give a reassuring hug or anything." That wink and smile of his, famous in the fan club newsletters, followed but smartly didn't linger long.

Still, though, and despite my wish to strike Genesis for even attempting such a thing with her...still I wished for my friend to be correct in his assessment. I wondered if I might have the capacity to be 'liked' by someone...or to give anything close to a reassuring touch. I wondered if I could continue tolerating myself, knowing what I now did.  
 _Enough, you've been given a second chance - do not waste it on self-pity._

I was about to speak myself, but Genesis continued as if there had been no awkward pause. For a moment, he'd been somber, but the mood didn't last more than a few words, thank coffee. "And I really meant it, honest, about us being friends. So of course I say 'yeah, yeah of course - and of course he'll wake up. Seph's the toughest guy I know.'" Our eyes had met again briefly, but neither of us were going to acknowledge what may have passed between, unspoken. Genesis continued - a soliloquy to the bedroom wall - as if not a thing had happened.

"It...she?...weird sprite...anyway yeah, she seemed satisfied and asked if we had quote 'a big and very empty room.' Something about needing space for meditation? I told her about that oh-so-grand hall you had converted for training, and as far as I know that's where she is. Might've stopped for a shower first, unless you've got other people here." My old friend just...shrugged, dropping his arms and waiting with only a minor amount of fidgeting. He looked almost guilty, or ashamed.

 _That_ was what was bothering me, "Is it really you Genesis? That explanation was...devoid of Loveless quotes, for one."  
 _And empty of veiled challenges as well; maybe this will not be so difficult...  
_ "Yeah, I'm trying to be less hostile and dramatic...seems to only cause trouble; and WOW you have _amazing_ taste in coffee!" Despite a broad smile, he looked sad, maybe a little embarrassed. Genesis is not one to often feel embarrassed, but I did believe it was actually him.

 _A good change, I think - let's see if it lasts past the caffeine buzz.  
_ I was happy to see my friend, like old times, until he flicked his eyes over to the doorway with another of his familiar looks.  
"And some pretty strange tastes in-"  
"Genesis," I warned, eyes narrowed and freezing the man to his spot, "my _guest_ is likely the only reason you, I, and Angeal are all alive. Be respectful. Her presence is not..."  
 _Not what? Is what? Kilara, apparently,_ _ **is**_ _still here!_

 _What the fuck am I even doing?!  
_ I thought to run, to literally fly, to the training room - a converted hall that was originally for something boring.  
 _Mansions and their halls...  
_ I _needed_ to apologize, to thank her before she ran away forever.  
 _I don't want her to leave..._

But I still did not know the motives of my two new house guests.  
 _Two? Three total? When did I get so popular?  
_ I still believed it best to not give them a weapon to use against me, if possible. As far as they knew, I've never given a damn for anyone other than myself, and only _sometimes_ them...maybe. So, instead, I thanked my friend, moving to pick up...where was Masamune, and my armor? I looked down, remembering the civilian clothes I'd ruined.

"Oh yeah, Angeal got bored - armor's cleaned and polished hanging over there."  
 _And with Masamune...good._

I took in a breath and turned to him, "Thank you Genesis, and we do need to talk. But for now...what day is it?"  
 _One of my intuitions tells me I will not expect this answer..._

"Well...it's been about five days since...before the library. It's hard for me to tell because I fell asleep for an unusual amount of time, too. But...I'm guessing two in there, because it's been three since you...since we got you moved." It was not the time to mention this annoyance, but his grimacing and floor-staring would need to stop, soon. I found the movements depressing.

 _Amazing...a week, give or take?  
_ "Thank you. Please make yourselves at home for now. I must gather myself, then we'll catch up...old friend," I found a smile forming while saying those words, feeling strangely light again. Would it be safe to allow, finally, hope into my repertoire?  
 _But..._ _ **five**_ _fucking days? Two without sleep in...down there?  
_ Another thing to push aside, perhaps to never think about again, I decided.

Pleased to have outlived expectations, and that Kilara had as well, I determined it best to try to go about a normal day. A slightly abnormal day, I suppose. First and absolutely, I was in need of a shower; my hair was matted with dried blood - unacceptable for presentation to friends or guests, and unbecoming of my image in general. The rest could wait.  
 _I've become quite adept at ignoring questions in the past week,_ I mused to myself, approving of my returned nonchalance and generally even keel.

Again, also, enjoying the lack of cutting retort from within - an excellent development. Relief and warm water did well to wash away the blood, stiffness and remaining fatigue. Nothing can be perfect, though, and a pang of sadness took me by surprise, watching so much of the girl's...life-force...swirling down the drain.  
 _I hope she can forgive me...it had not been me...  
_ My reputation, which she did not know as far as I'd surmised, was that of a ruthless sadist, but most of it was propaganda. Yes, I am efficient and no, I do not let emotions rule me...but I'd never _enjoyed_ violence like that thing had. I prayed, to nothing specific, that I never would.

Soothing routine pushed away those thoughts eventually and, back in uniform, I felt myself again. Some part of me wanted to shun the armor I'd worn, like a trained dog, for so many years, but it was a like a memory in more ways than it was disagreeable...instinctual in a way. The design had been my own, after all, not ShinRa's. Gaia I'd been arrogant, leaving my chest intentionally exposed as a taunt for any who might try to strike something vital.  
Of course, the official explanation was regulation of body temperature, but we all knew the truth. And I had _not_ been incorrect regarding the intimidation factor.

Passing the guest rooms, I confirmed that my other friend was, in fact, sleeping. I _was_ truly glad that they'd returned...but the _why_ still bothered me, as did the _when._ Dwelling on what had convinced them, though...well I just wouldn't do that. One lesson too-hard learned of late was that, sometimes, it is better not to know.  
 _I will be careful, of course...until I can be certain._

It was time to find Kilara, anyway; no more distractions. Something told me she _knew_ \- that she'd been able to see some of the same things I had - when the monster threw those images at me. I'd be surprised if she wanted to even look at me, let alone talk about any of the impossibilities we'd experienced, or anything at all, in truth. Yet, I hoped the eccentric girl might stay a while, to recover and maybe bring things up at her own pace, and to at least try working through some of the damage I _hadn't_ caused, if not also what I had. For a moment, Kilara _had_ trusted me.  
And, if anything, I hoped she'd allow me an apology, and chance to make things right, somehow.

I stopped short when, for no discernible reason, a _specific_ memory returned, flashing by with excruciating detail. She _had_ kissed me...fuck... I'd felt...  
I felt like it was more, but my memories were already clouding over again...fading. Still, and grinning like an idiot both then and now, I realized I had _felt_ something _!_ That Kilara survived at all was evidence of...another undefined variable, I believed. It had to be worth exploring, to find out what that unknown thing might be.  
 _I really have changed,_ I thought to myself. Again, not entirely displeased with the end result.

Stalling - I was stalling. Kilara was here, at least had been earlier. Would she want to see me, though? So soon after...?  
I'd promised that we...that _I_ would not hurt her...and yet...I had. Badly. Probably not just physically, either, even if she had been 'trained' to ignore her own emotions.  
That had not been me, and if I'd known he was still working...but those _had_ been my hands. I pray she knew that the actions, that the images were not mine and that I did not want them in my head.

 _Maybe just to check...don't forget that squeaky board...if she wants to talk to you, she will. But...just to see...to be sure...  
_ Yes, just to see. I moved to the stairs, down, and toward the training hall without a sound.

Kilara was there, and I found myself stifling a minute chuckle. 'Meditating' - very few people in this world would call that meditation. But I understood perfectly.  
I watched her sweep through the movements, daggers in hand - slow, deliberate, and precise - not to mention well executed. Warm-ups such as this were meant to center the mind just as much as they were a warm-up for the body.  
 _And how is her mind?_ I had to wonder, feeling guilty again and shuddering at the thought of that half-dead, thousand-yard and colourless stare.

I hadn't meant to stay, observing, but - but did I recognize that technique? The stances, and those precise flows between them, were not unfamiliar. But with daggers? I had not bothered learning other weapons, beyond the basic or intermediate levels, after acquiring Masamune; for daggers, these katas were quite advanced. Even for the sword, this technique was something special.  
 _...whatever gods or chaos set the pieces...  
_ I shook my head - Genesis might read too far into things, but not me. I was and am a logical creature.  
 _Back to the present. You must be mistaking what you see._

No, dammit I could not deny those moves and stances! The base for my own style - meant to display effortless, graceful defense, and brutal, yet fluid offense - was built on this same framework of simple poses and the motion in between. The modifications left it still recognizable in a way I'd never imagine possible, and I _had_ to know for sure that this wasn't just coincidence.

I had to know, and could not stop myself from entering the room, whispering more to myself than to the girl, "Kaze no te...?  
 _Hands of wind...it had almost been lost to the ages, abandoned for less airy, more primal stance by the many who could not harness such an ethereal technique.  
_ Kilara started; I'd caught her by surprise. Did the mean she felt safe here, somehow, and had allowed her mind to wander? It did not matter, nothing mattered once she turned and, much to my surprise, leapt in my direction.  
Daggers sheathed, of course. Arms outstretched had been doubly unexpected, though.

"You woke!" There was an uncertainty in the exclamation that was not demonstrated in the force with which the small woman embraced...moreso _crashed into_ me.  
What could I do but reciprocate, to place my arms around her, lightly? It was a...friendly gesture. Yes, friendly. I was certainly not displeased to see, with my own eyes, that Kilara had regained consciousness and did not seem to be severely damaged. It was very strange to imagine she might feel something similar towards me, but this seemed to be the case.

She was the first to relinquish, looking embarrassed. Initially I'd thought the sudden 'touchiness' was odd, but thinking back to what we'd been through...the trauma we'd shared; after all of that this was nothing. No, not nothing, but not a concern either; I did not minder her clinging.

"My apologies...and I owe you so many words of answer," she said, casting her eyes downward and falling into a version of parade rest I'd not seen in ages. Rather than hands flat against each other behind her, Kilara's arms were on top of each other, opposing elbow in each hand with her arms' weight resting pressed into the small of her back. We'd stopped expecting that level of flexibility from all but SOLDIER firsts once universal mako levels were perfected; their muscles often grew too large to bend in such a way for extended periods.  
 _Strange girl...  
_ "No need, and it is my gratitude to you. For now," I let out a sigh, "I'd rather delay that unpleasant discussion," she nodded, agreeing. Silently, I thanked every deity I could remember.

That did not mean I didn't wish to converse, though. "Can you tell me about this technique? It reminds me of something."  
Kilara beamed with pride, a smile that could light the slums if she so wished, "Kaze no te, but not, because we had to change it. You probably know it was developed for a single sword, yes?" I nodded my understanding. For the price of one good sword, you could buy ten usable daggers. And hers were of quality - a practical decision.

"Yes but..." against my wishes, yet also serving to reveal those wishes to me, her smile faded. "Well, I couldn't afford a sword - not one I..." she cocked her head to the side, thinking, "trusted anyway? Yes?" Again, Kilara half-assumed I'd comprehend her meaning, almost as if we were not strangers.  
And yes, I knew - a sword is a...it's like choosing a lover, not just any would do.  
 _Why_ _ **that**_ _word? I wasn't thinking...not like that...  
_ _*sigh*  
_ At least some part of me was thinking that, but in this mind it was beautiful and far from violent; not depraved like that _thing_ had been.

Luckily, Kilara did not seem to notice, or to be 'listening' outside of the intended hearing ranges. "That and every time I got some gil stored away...Emile would be sick or...well there was never really enough food... I am sorry, such is not good conversation."  
 _Poor girl; probably couldn't get a good job without risking discovery by ShinRa...or worse. People don't ignore mako eyes.._.

Unrelated to that, I made a decision.  
No, that had already been made, I think; I accepted it.  
I was just reinforcing the thought in my own mind; the circumstances were not what I'd expected...but the choice was correct. I _knew...  
_ _The old codger's probably laughing at me from the LifeStream..._

"No apologies needed," but it would not hurt to move the subject to something lighter, and to stop thinking in general, to be honest. Even I could only handle so much churn at once, "but...you know this technique then?"  
"Oh, yes sir." Whether it was the environment or past events, I wasn't sure, but Kilara's demeanor was much stiffer than I'd expected. Of course, I could not lay blame for being less then comfortable in my presence, once her initial excitement faded. That discomfort would need to be corrected.  
"Please...not 'sir' - just Sephiroth, if you will."  
 _Hell, I'd let her call me Sephy for all I owe her,_ I thought...but was myself enough, at least, to not admit _that_ aloud.

Not thinking much about it, I started walking to the far wall, where the practice sticks hung in neatly arranged rows; I kept replicas of almost every weapon I'd ever encountered, or at least the ones that had caught my eye. This was not only a hobby, but a technique - hands are struck, weapons drop or slip from grip. To be able to pick up _anything_ you find, and use it to achieve victory, requires dedication.  
"Come over here, let's see if I have something that might be suitable, and slightly less dangerous than the real thing, for practice and indoor use."  
 _As if either of us would be in danger,_ I kept the grin in check, friendly but eyeing her weapons for effect. _It is still a good excuse._

Besides, I saw relief at the change in subject - and I agreed. This was something - from what I could tell - that was 'normal' for us both. A grounding back to reality. Blade, body, breath, and mind; no room for the world's troubles. Or our own. No room for thought or introspection or even memory; a socially acceptable escape - SOLDIER approved, even.

Before Kilara got too close, I lifted a - a hard to see, but not hidden - panel. Sitting inside, just as I had left it, was...nothing special, I assure you. I assured myself as well.  
 _It's just a practice sword.  
_ Wood and varnish and nothing more. This one was not meant for just anybody to abuse, but it still meant nothing special.

"Here, try this, please. It might seem a bit long if you're used to daggers, but is very well balanced for someone of your stature, especially for a practice piece. I keep high quality replicas of many fine blades, though, if you do not approve." She took the object with an unnecessary reverence; an awe that had me wishing to be kicked again, instead.

I will admit that the craftsmanship was exquisite...but still Kilara's reaction surprised me. Then I again remembered solid austere daggers, and what history I'd been able to infer. Best not to embarrass the girl; let her enjoy the moment without comment. Surely it meant not a thing.  
And so I suppressed my amusement while, wide as saucers, the woman's eyes flicked from me, to the wooden sword, and back again - rapidly. Casually, I shrugged a nod - 'yes, for you to use,' the motion said.

 _And I do have my own...hesitations when it comes to this particular piece...  
_ Yes, I did, but this was not that sword. It was wood, a thing not weighed down by prophecy or meaning.  
 _I just am curious, and want to see what happens._

The girl gave yet another timid, questioning glance - as if she was breaking some rule just by holding the object. I chose to not respond, not right away, and took my stance farther from the wall than where she stood, speechless.  
 _Adorable? Haha...do not push it, Sephiroth.  
_ Deep inhalations centered my mind, preparing for the exercise - nothing more than that. And, once relaxed sufficiently myself, I accommodated with a nod, pleased when Kilara finally relaxed enough to join me for a comparison of katas.

 _\- I've seen worse forms of therapy, I suppose. -_


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: Well, sure is taking me a good minute to get these out lately. What can I say, life's going to life, and sometimes it does so pretty damn intensely._

 _I sometimes wonder if, for what this chapter is - a long ass fight scene, basically, peppered with inner monologue - if it might be a bit much. I do wonder that, but I wouldn't change it, nope nope. Oh, and Gen's back to his normal self, mostly, we needed the humour but knew that couldn't last too long, heh heh._

 _As far as Mr. Silverhair coming off as a bit of a softy here and potentially in the next few chapters...I debated explaining why, and decided on the compromise of a few breadcrumbs. There are allusions to the greater reason peppered in from here on out, and I will say there is a reason beyond me wanting a bit of romance. I mean, the guy's just had a huge chunk of ethereal brainwashing forcibly ripped from his skull, he's going to have some questions about who and what he is. And one does have to wonder if she got it all, or just Professor Ratboi's mess..._

 _That's about all I have to say on this scene. I want to get some momentum back on my other story, and believe I've gotten over the hump that was holding me back, so it might be another couplefew weeks before I circle back to this one. We'll see...I find it's much easier to not break promises if you never make them, so I'm not making any._

* * *

 _\- We open to Kilara and Sephiroth..."meditating"... -_

We morphed effortlessly from stance to stance, flowing through the routine in silent synchronicity. These were not fighting moves, just well timed motions and pauses - easy, but demanding in their fidelity; meant to set the mind at ease while promoting an attention to fine movements and detail.

And I _was_ starting to feel more centered and like myself; much less - I hate to use the word - less fragile in my thoughts. I'd been through these exercises probably thousands of times, and could do them in my sleep if I had to. But this did not mean I neglected to pay attention to my posture, more that I could spare a look in Kilara's direction now and then. Her executions were precise, fluid, and very respectable.  
 _Some of our SOLDIERs could learn a thing or two..._

I did not steal too many glances, though. This was doing me good and I wanted, needed, to lose myself in the comfort of routine for a while. I'd always found practicing with the blade - or I suppose the stick, in this case - calming.  
 _Yet this could be so much more,_ at least it was truly my own inner voice commenting on the situation. This key difference I should have noticed much earlier, when the apparition took hold: I was not certain I agreed, but felt no need to actively argue with my own thoughts.

For a moment, as we sailed through the routine, I pondered - was I _made_ for this? Only this?  
 _No.  
_ This was pure, honest, and un-corruptible; the blade itself was blameless. Whether I was born or created as a swordsman, it would be _me_ who defined the role. The movements were genuine, impartial to the connotations humans attached. One does not have to kill wantonly, just because they hold a sword. On can even elicit awe, creating beauty and real art, with the skill and precision of their movements. I am not one to wax poetic, but if I do fall into that trap, it is always the sword that baits me. The sword, not the battle, not the blood, and not the death or victory.

We were nearing the end of the warm-up when the realization struck. There are two endings to the Kaze no te warm-up routine, one for solo practice, and one for partnered. The partnered ending is generally followed by a sparring session.  
 _Strange girl, but she's faring well, it seems. I do wonder...I don't deserve it, but please, Gaia let me have this...  
_

I was debating which end I should move into, interested in what would occur should _I_ choose the partnered version, when my training colleague spoke, "Dance with me Sephiroth, please yes? It'll help you feel better...promise." Kilara's smile was pure mischief when she added, "And you don't have to hold back either." Kilara's smile reflected mischief, yes, but her eyes held a need with which I was also well acquainted.  
 _But I don't want to hurt you..._  
My own thoughts did not matter, though. Kilara stepped into the partnered finishing stance, sword held angled in front of her bowed head. How could I not oblige? How could I not be curious?

As I took the mirrored position, stepping back to compensate for Masamune's length - why yes, I did have a perfectly balanced 1:1 replica for practice, who wouldn't? - I thought I saw pure joy bring the light back into Kilara's eyes.  
 _How is she not terrified of me?  
_ Just as well, I had every intention of holding back, thank you very much. I appreciated the woman's tenacity, but...thoughts of...well even if that had not been 'me,' _I_ had no intentions of risking harm. I would keep my distance; I am still a gentleman.

 _It has been a while since my last workout though. And she can defend herself, I'd seen that well enough. Maybe test the waters and work up to proper playing? Just to see...  
_ We both flowed into the final phase of the partnered ending, synchronized, with swords tapping lightly to signify the end of meditation. Kilara caught my eyes for just a moment, her own glinting with delight, then struck. Hard.

I am not sure why I expected something less. This was not some dainty madame - she'd felt so small and frail in my arms that first awful night, but Kilara was strong, and well built for her size. Sturdy, if you'd believe that was a compliment (and it was), despite her small and dainty structure. What she lacked in raw power was balanced, if not made up for, with brutal speed and accuracy.  
Again, not wanting the mood to sour...or worse, to actually harm the girl, I kept to a defensive stance. She was making me work a little for it - an amount more than just a little, I'll admit.

Hell, I'd thought she'd be out of practice...clumsy even. But every move was fluid, and there was a surprising force behind each attack that I deflected. I felt nothing but admiration when we met, face to face - swords crossed in a concurrent block.  
Maybe a small bit of..attra...no - the events of the past few days meant nothing, and I'd made a promise to not be one of 'those' men. I would not invite her to be hurt again.  
 _This won't be easy, don't read into things._ _ **I'm**_ _the one who went and chose_ _ **that**_ _sword anyway...there was literal magic when she kissed me...  
_ I had to wonder what I'd done to myself, and why. Gaia, for all the fan club gossip...I have never felt...any kiss like that... _anything_ like that...  
 _Fate...pieces...fuck! What is this thing, this...this rogue idea masquerading as a feeling? I cannot, should not..._

To fight blade to blade, even with another man - and I am comfortable enough with myself to say this - is intimate, and that's the only word close enough to describe it. Your job is to know every slight movement of you opponent's body, to sense what they will do before or while they are doing it, as if both of you were one. _This_ fight, though. _This_ was...sensual. Every move a perfect counter to the other's - even a master would be hard pressed to choreograph something our dance, not without losing something of the _something_ we shared.

"You're holding back," Kilara was _alive_ \- ecstatic even. Smiling, laughing, darting around - I could see why Genesis mistook her for a sprite. It had been a long time since I'd seen such unadulterated elation in another's eyes.  
And she was correct, of course, I held back on my attacks. Still though, I supposed it would be very much a shame to deny the girl a decent challenge.  
 _But I won't risk injury- precision is key. Small steps up, watch her closely for signs of distress._

Moving to take the offensive, I pushed forward, testing simple (for me) strikes here and there.  
Easily blocked, though I wasn't that surprised, I told myself.  
"How about...this?" I couldn't help but taunt.  
 _*quick strikes - clack. clack. clack.*  
_ From what I've seen, if I did manage a hit - especially with a practice stick - it only stung at worst...perhaps I could risk more? She _did_ invite me to spar, and was obviously familiar enough to know the risks.  
Perhaps she'd forgive me...again? Fucking e _nticing...insane girl!  
_ Of course I didn't want to hurt Kilara, but...I don't know. I wanted to let loose, to fully enjoy the moment, rather than concentrate on checking every swing. I wanted to feel free, to be myself for a little while; and I think the woman-sprite knew this and agreed. Of course I could control myself, as long as I was careful.

Eyes narrowing, but not with anything like malice, I allowed some vigor in to back my strikes.  
 _*clackclackclack*  
_ The girl had a knack for directing blows, or maneuvering herself to reduce injury or pain. Sometimes a trade off, depending on her goals, I noted as she nearly sacrificed fingers to ensure my swing slid left, rather than down, across her own blade. Of course Kilara went for the opening that created on my right immediately; it seemed as if she was playing, or perhaps adding an artistry to her style. Had this been a 'real' fight, and I not me, things would have ended there, I believe.

"You're holding baaa-aaack," it was almost a taunt, but good-natured; I didn't mind. I was amused, and Kilara was having fun. But, if she didn't feel challenged? I was familiar with the disappointment; I knew it could ruin a good session. If this was to take our minds off of...recent events, I would be happy to do my part. To be a good host. It's a fine line between mere challenge, full on distraction, and dangerous contest - but one _I_ could certainly walk. A distraction we would have!

"You want a challenge then?" I asked, next time we were given pause as our swords crossed, smiling as I hadn't in years at least.  
 _Do you really want me to fall for you so quickly?  
_ _Where did_ _ **that**_ _come from? Am I me?_

"Yeah - don't think about it so much, it's unhealthy sometimes," she said, dancing back from another strike. I realized then that, probably years, spent fighting with those tiny daggers, had made her extremely aware of reach. Had I seen her sword change hands earlier?  
If she could fight just as well with her left...oh this was going to be fantastic!  
 _Okay...I'll give you a little more - just for fun,_ I thought, really starting to enjoy myself for once. Genesis, even Angeal, and definitely the other first classes always took sparring so seriously. Always wanting to be the one who beat General Sephiroth. It grew tedious quickly and only served to reinforce reckless, dangerous behaviour. This Kilara didn't seem to care about winning, though that doesn't mean she made it easy. Sparring with her made me feel...  
 _Fuck...just like that...? I can feel? Fuck._

 _*clack*  
_ "I don't want to hurt you," I forced a serious tone, dancing back and to the right before flicking the replica sword back towards the girl.  
 _*clack*  
_ "You won't," she said, spinning away, almost dancing on unbelievably light feet.  
 _*clack*  
_ "Okay, then," I raised a brow at our next meeting, near face to face as our swords locked - Kilara had a mixed look, both determined and care free. Maybe just free, come to think of it. I've had that look myself, a number of times, on the field...but not in a long time.  
"But let me know if..."  
 _If I need to stop,_ I thought as she bounded away again, delighted.  
 _Strange girl...are sprites even a real thing? Gaia...what if I'd ki-_

 _*clack-clackclack-clack*  
_ The barrage of strikes instantly ended that train of thought, pulling my mind back into the present. One might wonder if Kilara meant to scold me for such worries. Her expression betrayed nothing, and the faster pace continued, leaving little time to dwell deeply on the subject.

My pride had been wounded by recent events, both the loss of my history and the loss of my control. I felt no anger or jealousy in the aftermath, though, left unsure of my place in the world. As a result, and with directed no effort, I saw myself becoming a different person.  
A blank and broken canvas, free to repaint my will as _I_ saw fit. Still me, but maybe a little less icy this time. It is a stark difference, the feeling of being empty versus being hollow; one is a natural, almost apathetic state while the other brings with it a wish to fill that space.

But no state, however introspective, meant that I was going to allow myself to be shown up - be it by man, woman, or even forest sprite. I caught an opening and lunged for the attack, still holding back a little, always and of course...  
I wasn't going to _show her_ or anything like that, but a bit more effort on the offense shouldn't hurt. I was sure Kilara would meet the challenge.

I hoped...  
At a certain point in allowing freedom, restraint becomes difficult.  
I tried to hold trust in her judgment, though. I felt no arrogance, only a pure, relaxed confidence. She was holding up so well already, who was I to say she couldn't handle a little more?

* * *

 _\- Genesis, back to waxing poetic; we knew that wouldn't last much longer than the shock and coffee. -_

The sounds themselves hadn't caused me to wake - that had been a dire need for water. It was only after drinking, and splashing a good amount over my face, that I heard the noises and fully understood their meaning. Offering a quick apology to Angeal - and a quick epithet to the goddess - I nearly tripped over the cot next to mine, rushing from the room.

Angeal and I were used to saving space, having traveled together for some time, and did not mind sharing close quarters. Between that and ensuring nobody came to kill us, or - I remembered the knife near my own...Banora apples - or worse, we'd decided to pack two travel cots into one of the guestrooms last night.

 _*clack-clack-clack*  
_ _*giggle*_

Giggle? I wasn't quite awake yet and, despite the happier sounds, I instinctively made my way towards the fighting, hand on Rapier. We hadn't yet discussed the events of the past few nights, and I was still not sure what, exactly, I'd seen in that eerie subterranean chamber.  
I knew, but I didn't _know_ , if you will.  
Were they old friends? New friends? Not friends? He had to care something for that sprite if the darkness was that intent on killing her, at least based on what I'd read. Generally they're supposed to take themselves out quietly, if they manage to avoid wanton destruction; it would have to have been an extreme case of _something_ to drive the delirium I had witnessed. The professor was a sick man indeed.

As I completed my descent, rounding the corner, I caught movement through the large double doorway to my right.  
Sephiroth had converted one of the larger dining halls into a training room. _One of,_ I scoffed aloud, remembering the count. Now, I'd come from a rich family myself - adopted - and thought multiple halls excessive even then. Damn ShinRa and their excessive greed.

Relaxing a small amount, since none of my enemies giggled like that, I crept slowly towards the doorway and stood just outside, listening.  
Crept, as it is _not_ a good idea to interrupt my friend whilst he trained, especially if he was in a sour mood. I rolled my shoulder absentmindedly at unbidden thoughts of _that_ day, pushing back the memory of a time we'd trained together. The day I...yeah the General had handled the news well initially, all things considered.

Something still seemed off about the situation, though - abnormal. If my friend was in there, well Sephiroth was not wont to be so bubbly, let alone to giggle. And I would pay good money, if he was, to see the Silver Demon reach _that_ pitch.  
 _*he he heh*  
_ But giggling had been heard, no doubt. _Surely not that little sprite,_ I thought, curiosity beginning to override any concerns.

My earlier clumsiness must've woken Angeal. He was just then walking by, oblivious (or pretending to be) to the situation. Barely awake, but still looking introspective, my comrade did not even notice my presence.  
I grabbed his wrist, deftly sneaking away the water vessel he carried (yes vessel, I am who I am and I appreciate the art of theater and language), and swinging him around the corner behind me.  
"Hey..."  
"Sshhhhh" I nodded towards the sounds of wooden swords and strange laughter.  
Remembering the scene I'd witnessed in the library - or I'm sure in Angeal's case, my enthralling description of it - we each held a breath, poking our heads around the corner.

It was not long before we stepped out into the doorway to get a better view - the two did no see nor hear us, and were focused solely on the dance.

And what a dance it was! The scene was art, beauty, fluidity and rhythmic motions - I'd dare say passionate, even. Like nothing I'd ever witnessed, even when sparring the general myself. It was unusual for my friend to look so...so happy, and I understood the meditation comment, finally. It always seemed that sparring, that _everything_ , either bored or annoyed him but whatever this was appeared to help my relax.  
Of course Sephiroth had the upper hand, his blocks seeming effortless despite their speed - I'd expect nothing less from a 1st class SOLDIER - one hand maneuvered Masamune with ease, but the girl compensated for her lesser strength admirably.  
 _Willful little sprite..._

Where Sephiroth's parries were casual motions of the arm, the sprite would reinforce her stance, strengthening the hold with her off-hand. Not difficult for a two-handed dagger fighter, I suppose. But still, were that a real sword the pressure alone, even on the dull side, could result in bruising or worse, especially when meeting Sephiroth's harder blows. Spunky, the forest sprite was. Perhaps it was a familiarity thing, though - her guards improved greatly after a handful of encounters with the longer sword opposite; perhaps getting to know both its and the general's temperament.

And, she was quick - attempting to spring traps one after the other and giving Sephiroth a decent runaround.  
 _Good.  
_ I could not help but be amused, noticing the lack of my friend's usual cocky overconfidence; I think he sincerely cared about not accidentally harming the little thing. This was odd, as was something else...

Their styles, of which I noted the similarity, yet slight differences, met and played off each other splendidly. Even the two swords seemed similar beyond coincidence; I didn't recognize the one she was using, but I felt as if I'd seen it before, making the idea she'd brought her own unlikely. Very surprising, considering my friend treated his replicas just as he would real blades.  
 _None of my informants ever mentioned a lady friend - they must have met recently. And that he would allow the sprite to hold one so quickly?  
_ Strange indeed, though she did appear _quite_ worthy.  
 _Quite a few other things as well..._ I could not help but think as I admired the girl's speed and unbelievable grace.  
And perhaps a few other things, also, were admired.

Eventually, eyes widened with surprise, I finally understood the full truth of the scene before me.  
I'd realized that this was not a 'fight' right away - but _this_? I could almost believe my own eyes, but still could not fathom seeing my friend's contented grin. He is not one to smile without reason...or even _with_ reason, usually. The bastard was having fun! Well, good for him - that was something he didn't do often enough.  
Or at all, at least that I'd ever seen.

The match was enthralling - skills dissimilar yet evenly matched, a perfect palette of contrast and compliment. It would be luck or endurance that chose the victor, of this I was certain. And even my own, or other firsts' matches with the General lacked such fluidity; I wondered if the two were closer, knew each other more intimately than I'd originally surmised.  
 _Oh if only I could film this art!_

It was at this point that Angeal, never one to appreciate true art, retrieved the drinking glass from my grip - stopped as it had been for some time halfway to my lips. He was interested, but not as enthralled as I. 'Geal is a great guy, but simple in his tastes, and never seemed to appreciate the finer points of true art - he once called one of Nomura's masterpieces, and I quote, a pretty picture! The man was a genius with the brush, especially for a Wutaian, and he calls it a pretty picture!

Anyway, I barely took notice of the missing beverage - this scene was poetry, beauty, a pure distillation of grace and will that caused my heart to ache in no unpleasant manner. Beauty and skill. Inhuman skill...  
"Goddess...?" I felt the whisper on my lips, earning an odd look from Angeal, but no comments at least.

On top of everything, to see my friend Sephiroth - the embodiment of somber, cool, and brooding - to see him smiling and having fun? I was truly amazed. The world as I knew it was changing before my eyes!  
"Damn, they're good," was 'Geal's addition to the critique, and I could only shake my head and sigh.

* * *

 _\- Oh, Sephiroth is aware... -_

I was in heaven, or maybe that promised land the president was always muttering about.  
With the...troubles lately, few first class had been available for 1:1 training, and even fewer seconds offered any real challenge. It had been ages since I felt even close to this...normal.  
I was still holding back offensively, of course, but my defense - to give myself up to instinct for just those moments was nothing short of wonderful! Keeping to mostly defense, where I didn't have to worry as much about accidentally injuring Kilara, I could just _be._ This was exactly what I needed. Mind clear, objective simple - don't get hit. Nothing else mattered for those precious minutes.

It wasn't exactly a full fledged fight - most (Kilara included, I was very interested to notice) swordsmen are taught an amount of restraint during practice - drilled to not automatically engage materia or any other magic they may be attuned to, lest they lose a practice space...or more. I caught a twitch here and there, though, as if the girl might be reaching for spells on instinct.  
 _So, she has experience with materia? Shame I won't get to see that.  
_ Whether magic or science, the spells could be devastating to an indoor facility. It was only in the high tech ShinRa VR rooms that one could even pretend to use their full arsenal. And even those, we'd learned the hard way, can be damaged by enthusiastic competitors.

In a way, this restriction made things less exciting - but the purity - physical, exhausting, elegant , normal - in its own way the swords themselves were superior for this occasion. It was perfect.

I'd also noted another kind of twitch here and there, both in her and my own hands. More complex than one would use to grasp or activate a materia orb, and subtly different in other ways.  
 _Hmm...I don't need materia for some attacks...could it be that she doesn't either?  
_ I had a twinge of worry, but soon shelved it. This was a disciplined and trained fighter, just as I was. The mansion would remain intact. In truth, a part of me did not care either way, to be honest.  
 _But where did you learn, I wonder? Hojo would not have had you trained, not with his opinions on females...  
_ I could not spare too much thought for those questions as the girl intensified her attacks, slowly feeling for weaknesses or limits while trying to avoid pushing her own. Those questions would just have to wait until we got to know each other - something I cautiously began to hope might be possible.

We fought on, prolonging the escapade - not tiring, not wavering, just the crack of wood on wood; and as I held less back, Kilara had to concentrate more. Her speed was amazing, but I outclassed her in both brute strength and trained skill. Still a fine and challenging opponent - I do not mean to say that it was effortless or easy to match her.  
 _I wonder if she'd allow me to train her, refine those natural skills? Gaia we'd be an army on our own...  
_ I could not help but imagine it. I'd have one hand on her hip, slightly correcting the stance as I whispered soft instructions...leaning in almost close enough to...  
 _ ***crack!*  
**_ Kilara laughed as the near hit startled me back to reality; thankfully instinct had raised my blade to block that strike. My own grin flashed below lingering eyes as I tried to concentrate on...on anything but the place my imagination had gone. The woman did things to me, things I didn't quite understand...things I felt guilty for wishing to explore.  
 _But there's no way she'd forgive me for what that...entity made me do. Is there?_

I'd been pondering that question as well, when the juncture between attack and defend allowed.  
Such few precious moments - less precious when stood next to this experience as a whole, though. That she was here, hadn't run away - maybe Kilara might stay, might even be my friend? Never before had I felt so...so human and accepted; to Kilara I wasn't 'the general' or any other preconceived idol, and even though she insisted on calling me 'angel' I felt no expectations attached. I realized then it wasn't just sparring, it was her - she let me just _be,_ and seemed to accept whatever that was - and that kind of freedom was, I think, something I desperately needed.  
 _What a perfect beginning for my new life..._

Jerked out of my reverie as the battle shifted, I eyed my opponent. Something had changed - not necessarily for the worst from my point of view. Kilara moved to strike, and I blocked - just in time again - catching Kilara's eyes in question. We were nearly nose to nose, swords clacking together, when she tilted her head just slightly towards the entryway, mouth a sly grin and eyes shining mischievously.

I hadn't sensed a trick, but still waited until she was flying back, pushed by the force of my block and break, to steal a glance.  
Genesis and Angeal watched - the former gawking open-mouthed while the other smiled with a slightly befuddled look. He was probably trying to tune out some soliloquy on art or choreography, knowing Genesis, and knowing firsthand just how good Kilara was.  
I had missed my friends. But, what would our reunion be without a good...reason to goad them. They think I have no sense of humor - this is not true. Mine is just...more refined.

There was no touch, no tingle, no image, but I knew it was time to turn my full attention back to Kilara. Part of swordsmanship is reading, knowing your opponent body and mind. Every movement a message, every step a story, each twitch worth nothing and everything.  
From what I read in Kilara's movements, _something_ was about to happen. Something unexpected for our audience, and perhaps for me, she seemed to think. But I'd trained for years, and agreed that it was about time to end the session; so of course I knew what was coming.  
Or so I thought.

She came in fast, full-tilt, leaping towards me with the sword held in a dual-hand grip (as I'd noticed she did occasionally, to compensate for my greater size and strength - smart) and will all the momentum she could muster. Instinctively, I raised my blade to block, pushing back with force against her strike to compensate for said momentum.

Kilara flashed me a grin before being sent, flying, backwards...

...twirling gracefully while careening towards the far wall. I cursed myself for the amount of power in that block, or was halfway to doing so when I saw her feet plant neatly on the wall. For a second the woman - the faery, perhaps - hung, body parallel to the floor. I was not sure how, forgetting our similarities again for a moment. Once that information clicked, though, I saw the rest play out in my mind...and I was ready.  
Or so I again believed.

Kilara pushed off and shot towards me, flying through the air like a bullet.  
 _So fast,_ I thought while time slowed, at least in my own mind, as happens in battle.  
I'd raised my blade, expecting her to do the same before meeting me head-on.  
But, instead, as if in slow motion, I saw the...the...sprite _was_ the word, I saw Kilara pull out her surprise tactic. She had switched her grip, sword now in her left hand. Her right seemed to trace along the wooden Masamune, sliding down the top curvature of replica until...just at the right moment...the girl tried something crazy.

I had automatically turned my wooden sword's edge inward - were it a true blade, this would cut deeply into her side as it slid along the weapon.  
Would, had she not - faster than my reaction and before I completed the blade's rotation - snapped a flat side, rather than sharp edge, against her rib cage, holding it in a manner that made further rotation difficult if not impossible.  
It would still have caused injury, but not near as devastating as was possible; Kilara had gotten close enough to grab the pommel, preventing me from twisting the 'sharp' edge back into her. I'd never seen such calculated desperation before.

 _Except, perhaps, when she_ _ **climbed**_ _the fucking dragon...  
_ _Crazy sprite_ , I thought to myself, disagreement immediately following that idea. Were this a real duel, I was about to lose my my head. Kilara, at least, would have walked away.

At the same moment she'd snapped down my blade, I felt a brush against my neck - sword held confidently in her offhand, and with amazing precision, the blade slid along my neck; I'd been so distracted, and the strike was so meticulously placed, that the barest tickle of the wood barely registered. Yes, had that been sharp I might've never felt a thing again.

But it was only practice, so as Kilara slid closer and as the smooth, cold wood slid across my neck, I was feeling the strangest shivers of pleasure run up and down along my spine. This shiver was, assuredly, _not_ her doing mentally, like those others had been; the meditation had given me some time to ponder the girl's strange _skills_. Oh, but it _was_ her doing though, certainly.  
 _The precision...she..._ _ **hit**_ _me...beautiful...  
_ Could I have closed my jaw? I do not know. I do not care.  
The woman had landed, balanced on her toes to hold the position, and blade still at my throat and smirking. Despite the supposed fight, my right arm had reached out, steadying her, just around the waist. An enemy would not have garnered such a reaction, but for her I seemed to have some sort of ingrained protective instinct.  
 _Strange...  
_ _M_ y mind wasn't working at full speed, and I could only stare into those enchanting lavender eyes, speechless.  
 _Fuck...me...  
_ To this day I'm still not sure what inflection that thought held, nor whether it was an invocation or a statement.

The grin on Kilara's face was...there are no words to properly describe what I saw. And it took an amount of concentration just to avoid pulling her further inward; both of us breathing hard as we shared yet another almost...erotic moment.  
It was best to cut off that train of thought, so I grasped onto the first passing idea that didn't involve lips and heat and want.

 _I wonder if Genesis and Angeal had been able to follow along. It would be a shame if they hadn't._

Just that one thought was managed as we stood, posed, before I realized...something; it is hard to put into words. I had found this woman, possibly dying, and in hopes of saving myself - _me_ \- I rescued her. One last, pitiful act of redemption. But as I'd seen that night, and as I could see now, she was in no need of rescue. Surely I'd helped, lessened the pain maybe - but Kilara would have survived, most likely.

And then she went on to save me instead. As she had with this finishing move, the girl had baffled and amazed me; she'd risked detection - if ShinRa wasn't hunting her, Hojo surely was - and risked trust with the secret of her capabilities...for _me_!  
 _Why? Crazy, idiot, astounding, beautiful girl!_ \- she had let me see her, and was - as Genesis said - a goddess.  
I felt this strange urge to protect Kilara, but she didn't _need_ my protection.

And I had not hurt her, that was **not** me. She did not expect, did not want to see guilt in my eyes, I think that's what she meant. Kilara was proving to me - even if I wanted to hurt her, she would not allow it - she had the power to forbid any pain she did not see as necessary for a given purpose. Saying that she would gladly endure that pain, were something worth the effort.  
I don't know why, but her friend, Emile came to mind.  
 _Well...she controls physical pain anyway..._

Though that thought darkened my own, I let it linger, soaking in the meaning before allowing it to fade. The message was clear now: no, I wouldn't...could not hurt her, not unless she allowed it. There was still some guilt, knowing how reckless Kilara was willing to be in her allowances, and knowing she hadn't always had the choice to be.

 _And she's trusting me? Of course I wouldn't wish to case harm, either physical or mental, but...but I wasn't made for that kind of protection. Would I even recognize causing pain damage of that sort?  
_ I felt something, a wave of calm come to wash away the worry. Almost a sense of...completeness - like that night on the couch, perhaps. Not like the touches - what I had deduced were _her_ touches. It wasn't the strange tingles I'd felt earlier, nor like the blanket she'd wrapped around my addled mind as it fought for sanity. This was more subtle, more natural in a sense.  
It wasn't her; I _felt_ , but what?

A twinge of warmth as I realized that...this - girl, woman, sprite, goddess? - no matter the answer, she saw _worth_ in me.  
 _How? Why? You know me, somehow, and you know the truth. It doesn't make sense...  
_ Sure I had a reputation as - what, a cold blooded killer? An _actual_ demon, according to some? Even still, Kilara did not seem to know that, nor to care if she did. To willingly accept such...a thing as I was...  
I found it very difficult to think, for a number of reasons.

 _Or maybe I'm reading to far into things. It was just sparring after all._

Much to my chagrin, that 'complete' feeling began to fade away. Just for that moment of peace, though, I was thankful.  
And what I was left sensing after was still not unpleasant. Not at all.

"You feel better now?" - we still held that ending pose, her smile had softened to show a few grains of concern.  
 _I suppose I'll never understand...  
_ "I...yes, I do. I feel much better than when I first woke up. Thank you, Kilara." I said, still not moving to disengage.

Neither did Kilara, as she squeezed my hand, smiling at me with those bright, lavender eyes that were...

* * *

 _\- One last word from Genesis... -_

"Beautiful..." I could not help but whisper, assessing the scene as I glanced towards Angeal, who was also standing awestruck. Finally.

"My friend, truly you are chosen," Sephiroth couldn't hear me, but it was to him I spoke, too touched by the moment to feel the usual sense of envy that followed his shining victories. Match aside, there was no loss for my friend this day.  
What I'd just witnessed was the culmination of all art, beauty, poetry, motion, elegance, and delicacy; every play, painting, or reading I've ever sought out to see, combined, was nothing compared to the image before me. They were majestic!

I felt a sense of satisfaction, as if just bearing witness to this event somehow filled an empty part of my own broken soul. Never had my friend had such light in his eyes, never had he looked so-

 _ ***Crash!*  
**_ Angeal, probably just as affected, dropped the glass he'd stolen back some time ago.  
 _No sense of drama at all...  
_ I sighed, shaking my head again, but smiling.  
 _Probably doesn't even see what's happening - fine!_

"Hey 'Geal, there's not much food here, so why don't we find something nondescript to wear and go out?" I suggested, intending to leave the two to...well if anyone knew _that_ look, I did. Leave it to Seph to hold out for a fucking deity, haha!  
No, I wasn't being completely serious, but they did look divine, posed after such a beautiful performance.

"Huh?" Angeal finally acknowledged my suggestion, completely missing the reason for it.  
 _*stare*  
_ "Right, yeah - let's go to the market, sure," he agreed. It would be at least an hour before I heard the 'OHH, _that's_ why,' after which we'd share a chuckle, almost just like old times.

 _\- And I do wonder what is going through their heads... -_


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N Time: Whelp, as you may have noticed I've blown the proverbial load - lost momentum if you will. The incredibly sad thing is that this entire arc is already written, with at least 2 passes of editing..._

 _Could just be the winter weather, though - hard to type when you can't feel your hands (though thanks to the modern 'marvel' of AC, I cannot feel them for most Texas summers either if I'm indoors...gods I miss the Northeast; cold was different there)._

 _Yeah anyway, still doing the thing, just doing it a bit more slowly. Perhaps this short chapter (before we get into the story within the story) will help with that momentum thing, yes?_

* * *

 _-Sephiroth POV -_

 _But I've never...could it be a side-effect of the Jenova experiments?  
_ I was lost, happily lost and unable to look away from the iridescence that was Kilara - our breathing synchronized, hearts beating the same tune. Perhaps I was partially stunned, not just with my previous revelation, but with my own impressions and...interest.  
 _Does it matter?_

 _ ***Crash!***_

I - both of us actually - deliberately attempted to ignore the jarring noise, holding each other's gaze in silent, good-natured challenge. I wondered how long 'Geal and Gen had been watching us, and wasn't at all surprised or even angry that I'd lost a drinking glass for it. Such things were unimportant next to what I felt could possibly be gained if I could cast off the last of that darkness I'd formerly embraced.  
For all I eschewed spirituality, Kilara's words echoed again in my mind, " _Sometimes the gods, they set up the pieces..."_

Lamentably, that interruption did pull us back to reality, despite our attempts to overlook the jarring effect of the noise. Her face was one of complete serenity despite, "Thank you," Kilara bowed unnecessarily. "That was an...enchanting and challenging session. But," she caught my eyes, head tilted with a look of pure satisfaction just the same, "you were holding back?" And again I saw a spark of mischief arc across her eyes.

 _This woman...  
_ I could not help the small smile, but wore my own calm expression, nodding as I could not argue against her point.  
I had held back.  
I had and I would still, at least until I knew I could trust myself as much as she seemed to.  
 _Yes,_ _ **this**_ _woman..._

Anyway and confusing thoughts aside, normalcy returned while I took the training swords back to the wall; Kilara began re-attaching her dagger belt, which she'd removed for the session. I took my time adjusting the tools, waiting until my sparring partner was almost finished with her own work, and speaking just before she made to leave.

"Kilara, tell me - what did you think of that s..." I was going to ask about the replica sword, but something in the girl's colour, and the way she was leaning with a hand on the wall, troubled me. "Kilara? Are you well?"  
She was not, but I did not yet comprehend why, suppressing the rising panic I felt was a new experience all by itself; for the moment my discomfort was not important.  
She had yet to answer, and her eyes didn't look to be focusing properly.  
 _I did not do this? I was very careful, and we were having fun...weren't we?_

The girl's palm shot out, stopping me, but not before I got close enough to see that she was shaking. "I am well, just..." Kilara was far less than well, in my opinion. "I did not track time," she attempted to laugh, "maybe and perhaps...I apologize but if I could trouble you for some juice or sugar water? Truly I am fine, nothing worth concern."

 _Hypoglycemia...I should have known! Damnit!  
_ When I, myself, had last eaten was nearly a mystery, and I knew Kilara had not since I'd found her; she wasn't well fed to begin with, either. And yes, I should have known - I was trained to fight through pain, fatigue, and hunger - it makes sense that she would have been as well.  
Putting aside thoughts of new and exquisitely cruel ways I'd make Hojo suffer when I found him, as well as the question of when I'd lost my own definition of justice in exchange for ShinRa's - nobody should starve in this world of plenty - I approached Kilara slowly. I doubted she could, let alone should, walk in that state.  
 _I don't even remember the last time I patrolled the slums, let alone cared as I used to about the injustice and poverty there...why are they so ignored and exploited? *sigh* One thing, one change, at a time Sephiroth - focus._

Kilara didn't fight when I scooped her into my arms. I did have to hide a shock of sadness at her sudden tension, but both reactions quickly dissipated; once Kilara relaxed it was a quick trip to the kitchen, where I began searching not just for sugar, but ideally also some form of protein and fiber to balance and hold her over until the others arrived with proper food.

Peanut butter from the pantry, paired with an apple and some cheese I'd found in the refrigerator, would work nicely, all things considered. After setting Kilara at the table and pouring the last of an orange juice carton, I let curiosity wander whilst working to prepare the rest. "I'd lost track of the days, we should have done this first."  
 _Smile? It is not the most uplifting subject, but it is something._

Deciding to prod, I added, "If you don't mind," Kilara took small sips of my offering, looking like she felt guilty for even that much; likely ashamed to not be self sufficient.  
 _I won't kill him, no, I'll think of something worse...  
_ Either way, _he_ was not a subject I wanted to broach just yet, and so continued my first question instead. "When was the last time you had a decent meal?" The other one, the dead child, had looked better taken care of. Perhaps I was a overly blunt, but was also curious as to whether there was a difference between us; I was not raised to sacrifice myself for others, but would bet she went without for the sake of the younger one.

"I am unsure," Kilara answered, continuing when I chose to remain silent.  
"It is better here than in the city," she argued, eyes lowered but smiling. This was not a smile I wanted to see though; it was the kind of sad, defeated smile that could force even a thing like myself to sympathy, if not empathy. "But with the cold snap, and the new creatures scaring off small game...this autumn has been difficult."

 _Makonoids - another reason to hate that man,_ I fought back anger, setting the snacks on the table and deciding to leave a seat empty between Kilara and I before sitting as well. _That_ subject was one I wished to avoid, and so after some back and forth where the girl insisted I take some fuel for myself, I changed the subject to something that was (at least comparatively) less disturbing.  
Already, she was looking healthier, from the juice alone.  
 _Good. Note - I need to feed her more often...if she forgets, that is. She's not a pet; she's not_ mine.  
 _Yet._

Possessiveness was a new and slightly distressing whim, and was yet another I'd be pleased to not discuss. This left only one option, if I wanted to avoid uncomfortable silence. "Kilara - tell me, what did you think of that practice sword - it's only wood, but a well made replica. I'd have your thoughts?" the question was accompanied by a slight tiling of my head; the goal was to sound casual, yet interested enough to procure an honest answer.  
 _One warrior to another, that's all; I'm only curious. Surely the old man was crazy._

"Oh, Mr...err...Sephiroth! It is an exquisite piece! Even for a model, the balance, the weight, everything felt like it was an extension of my own self. It's been a few years since I'd even held one, but that...it was amazing. Thank you, I will cherish the experience." She'd closed her eyes and, I think, even bowed slightly.

My pulse quickened, behaving erratically in reaction to Kilara's choice of words.  
 _An extension of yourself?  
_ Nothing left to lose, so much to gain...  
 _Fuck, no! Wait...yes? I do **not** know fear.  
_I chose to gamble.

"There's a story behind that sword, and the true blade it represents. Would you like to hear it?" I inquired as casually as I could manage, all while remembering the details and organizing them in my mind. I _knew_ she'd say yes.  
She _had_ to...it was fate...even if I'd never believed in such a thing.

"Oh yes, I'd love to - please," Kilara replied with an honestly interested look.  
I caught her eyes, "I'm glad - come let's walk and talk, perhaps I'll show you around as well," I said, slowly rising to turn towards the kitchen's exit. "Not many people know this story - it's also the tale of how I acquired my own blade, Masamune."  
I thought I heard a sound of awe escape her lips. Yes, it was a fine blade - both in the set were.


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: I wrote and discarded three, or five, or maybe seven brand new scenes, only to realize I hadn't actually set up a proper transition for any of them at the end of the last chapter. Frustration - but not too much; in some ways it's all kind of funny, and I did come up with some interesting scenes/parts of scenes._

 _Parts that, maybe, I'll find a home for later...though nothing will ever recover the time lost to such mistakes. Ah well...  
_ _I did eventually get my bridge worked out though, and here it is.  
_ _I am, in a way, very curious if those on the 'outside' sense any glaring difference between the parts that I've had and tweaked and worked on for a year or two now in comparison to these little bits, on which I spend anywhere from a couple of days to a couple of weeks from start to finish.  
I hope it's not so stark as to break immersion or otherwise fuck up the story...I suppose, if it is, that I'd like someone to let me know, though._

 _Finally, one small edit was made to the previous chapter (13). It was more semantic flow than a crux of scene destruction, so I would almost say don't worry. If you do, the change affected just that very last paragraph (and points given if the difference is noticed).  
I hope I didn't miss any other issues with regards to this insertion._

 _So, with that out of the way, we pick up as the two meander from the kitchen. I've gone back in time a bit, reviewing some of the last chapter from within Kilara's head. Once we're caught up, the esteemed general will have just noted that few know the true origins of Masamune (and we have hinted that this might have something to do with the special training sword given to his guest).  
_ _There is, of course, some tension tension tension - then finally the setup for our jump into the nested story, which will arrive (hopefully much more quickly) with the next chapter (which should be 15, if I can leave things alone and not add further stalling). One has to wonder if the undertones are sinister, or if this is just our general's normal manner, as the chapter closes._

 _As far as length - yes, another short-ish one, but I'm hoping to have the next up before next weekend ends...or before next month at least. It's "small or nothing" right now, until I get back into the bits that have been written for a longer while (and even better if I can stop mucking so much with them). In truth, three to five thousand words is probably better - easier to digest in a single sitting - than the 8 or 10k behemoths I began with.  
_ _We will see how that goes, as always the result is at the mercy of those the demons governing my ability to edit (as well as other things)._

* * *

— _Before we can move forward, let's back up once more…a record scratch, and here we are. —_

It was something like embarrassment I felt, having to be carried like a small and sickly child. No, not _having_ \- I could have forced my legs to walk; I could and should have, but did not.  
 _It was for remembering, that is all,_ I told myself remembering was all, and the only reason. It _had_ been ages since I'd let another near me, save Emile...and maybe aeons since that other had been male. This was not always by design, but with experience and time came lessons, and of the kind I had no wish to be repeating often, even if I was the one taking role of teacher more than often.

It seems I am much stronger than I look to most, and this is not a thing I keep a secret, but still it took some time for some few to learn my words and warnings were to be believed. To be asked nicely, then after to be told, yet still to try to touch...little choice remained but violence.  
Women, on the other hand, were different - at some age I did begin to have those needs and aches, and women did not mind a night away from men. They also did not elicit in me such disgust and hatred of myself, though neither did they truly satisfy that longing. It was kept at bay, at least and usually, and such results were superior to nothing.  
But then Emile had started following, and no do not think I'd _ever_ asked such things of her. It was because of her, and a wish to keep her innocent, that such needs went unfulfilled; she did not often let me time alone to deal with things myself. I say 'because of,' but do not harbor blame or any anger - in some ways it was good for me to learn to be alone that way.

 _I believe it is not the time to be lost in thoughts about those things,_ not just etiquette reminded, but also some sense of preservation. I had made myself look weak enough already; it is maybe that I was weak for that moment, given how long it took for vision to return its focus, but still that was not a thing I should have shown, I know. Not even to an angel, even though I had.  
But the **last** thing I would need involved becoming lost in memory again, forcing a hard shut that path of thought.  
The last thing I _had_ needed, then acquired, was that sense of something like connection through and at the ending of our dance, but such a thing had been. Now want and fear and self-distaste warred for the choice parts of me to gnaw at.  
Of course I did not wish to feed them more.

Despite these things, though, angel is the correct word, I think, to use. He could not be held at fault for mine, and was the reason I now sat, what felt like almost safely, in the chair. Sephiroth had not said any kind of thing, neither gloating over stamina, nor pointing out the slip that would have meant death in any true life situation. Of course, had it been true life, my last strike should have made null this point, but I must assume always that others lurk in shadow.  
He probably also had not felt any such connection; this was just my loneliness and way of not dealing with Emile's loss, and of being reminded of that life before she'd saved me, just to add more pain.  
 _I must be just wishing for another thing to cling to, when I should be learning to not cling at all again._

"I hope this will suffice, until my fr-yes, until my friends return with the ingredients for something more substantial." Onto the table appeared not just the liquid sugar I'd need to last a few more hours, but a fruit and peanut butter, even cheeses!  
"I..." I knew I should say words of thanks, and could not remember if refusing would bring more or less offense; I did not need so much. I did not need, and probably could not even stomach the amount; I know it is not normal, but beyond even recent troubles, food had always been a teaching tool. Sometimes even the finest things, usually the finer things, evoked a kind of sickness, but that doesn't mean I lacked appreciation!

"I...thank you, Mr. Sephiroth. Such is very generous," I smiled, promising inside that I would not touch until he had taken more than some. _After that_ , I thought, _and if the offer is not just sense for decorum, maybe it will be okay. Yes! I am certain the dizziness must be an annoyance, and so it would not be selfish to take as offered, to keep myself upright.  
_ It is not as if I worried that the food was drugged, or any other thing so silly, to wait was just habit and good manners. I did not wish to owe things, or any more of things than already used, or stained and ruined with blood, or that might carry price or tricks.  
 _I am also not even wholly sure which of his versions invited me to stay...and I probably should not any of the ways. Nobody ever, truly, expects nothing in return...or some who didn't were granted early death by way of knowing me, it seems._

This plan I'd had for sharing was not working well, not until Sephiroth asked about when I might've had a decent meal, seeming much surprised by my enjoyment of some small samples from his offer. This gave an opening to ask the same of him, and to insist he should partake of more as well. For some time we sat and talked despite the conversation's turn to darker things - the weather shift and increase in creatures, and how these had made a life of foraging less easy. But and much despite those subjects, it was still conversation I enjoyed.  
This talking kept my mind from other things.

Or, at least, the conversation tried to, but an errant theme was trying hard to circle back, and Mr. Sephiroth's intensity was not a help. This intensity had been a thing before, yes, but something of it changed after friendly sparring. He was doing things, like shifting closer, or just barely brushing my own hand or arm when reaching towards our communal plate (only to insist, after reaching, that I take more pieces). And always were those eyes, striking and less cold than the other his had been, watching and dissecting, sometimes even questioning _himself_ , I think.  
Strangely, and though I put much concentration into keeping stronger walls, I caught the thought, almost, that he wished to feed me in the sense of literal.

Coupled with my state, with adrenaline still lingering from the match, these were not good thoughts for dwelling. In fact, my own skills were coming into question - did I slip or did the thought break through of its own accord? Had my own broken psyche made it up?  
Of course, these would not be difficult to answer, if I were to look.  
But I had promised to not use that skill, not unless the need was great. Guilt, mostly, was the reason; I'd had to go so far when trying to deprogram and undo what the horrible one had left. There had not been much in the way of choice, but such does not change the truth of things. It also does not change before, when in accident I'd pulled him to that abhorrent place of memory and vision; that hadn't been a thing I'd meant to happen, but none had ever tried to pull me out...I'd been desperate to get out...was left wondering if such a thing might ever be forgiven, considering just what had been there waiting.  
Would it matter if some blame goes to the evil one, and also to that greater evil with which he seemed to be involved?  
 _Focus. What's done is done and you cannot change this._

My internal guide was right, but still, I had crossed a line when to do so was forbidden. Yes, I would cross even one hundred lines again...and whether the gods were understanding or they weren't. I felt a need to tell this truth and to confess, even if he might not understand, but was not yet ready for such truths. I was not ready to know if I had caused damage to his mind by trying to play the part of gods.  
If anything, I owed this one many other truths as well, so and as a sort of consolation, I'd promised not only to keep the curse in check and not fall back on taking answers when I wished, but as well to actively keep out things that might float in accidentally. This was not much, but I hoped it would be enough, when that time to tell arrived - I could only hope to spare some wrath and show that, truly, I have a deep respect for private thoughts. How to confirm I was not a thing to fear?  
 _That sometimes I cannot even help hear-and-feel-ing what I do...and that only those who do not know the oaths, and who might not be so good themselves inside...only those ones would abuse such things._

Again and anyway, this was not the time. Emile had understood, but she was gone, _much like any who risk being too close to me.  
_ _No! We are not dwelling, we are to appreciate the best and continue forward!  
_ It was not much likely that I would find another like us - Emile and I, like we were in that way, so I forced myself to enjoy this odd companionship for what it was, and to not focus so much on it coming to an end. That would happen naturally, soon enough and on its own, I believed. This was the safe belief to hold. This was safer for those who ended up around me, also.

 _And I said I would not dwell!  
_ Back in the kitchen's present, I was again embarrassed by the autumn hardship we discussed, but wondered if unpleasant topics might do better for distraction from the _other_ thought intrusions. I though this, then a thing quite opposite, as fury built up in the eyes of my companion. It was not the things I said, not so much directly, and we did share dislike for experimentation's horrors...but I resisted another urge to pry, and resigned myself to puzzling as a normal someone would.

 _This indicates no thing. It could be just as much_ _ **his**_ _memories that cause it, and not a true concern for yours.  
_ This was not the first time Sephiroth had looked at me in ways none had looked before, and looks like that provoked that part of me I knew to be foolish and naive - the one who gazed through rosy glasses and need-wanted things that one such as myself had no business even wishing, let alone finding or deserving.

 _But it has been so long,_ a different part began to argue - and I am sane I promise. For many years I spoke with nobody, and with Emile, often we communicated using other means. I learned to see and argue other sides as a tool for growing, and somewhat from necessity. Different aspects of myself are still myself, are they not?

Just as if to take that side as well, because for all my introspection we'd been carrying a conversation, Mr. Sephiroth chose then to ask a question. "Kilara - tell me, what did you think of that practice sword - it's only wood, but a well made replica. I'd have your thoughts?" The look said _I wish to drill them from your head, but kindly._  
What could I tell him but the truth, that I had not felt so free since flying that first time? Of course, I gave him different words, ones that might make sense without such context. He then said there was a story, about that blade and his own; he wished to tell it.

"Hmm...haha, no, it is not too much surprising to hear they are related," we stood and I held some vain hopes that both walking and to listen might finally prove distracting, but it seems I lacked the energy to both keep outside thoughts from coming in, and to also keep inside thoughts in order.  
But still I truly wished to hear the story, asking, "But why is it that few know this history of swords, Mr. Sephiroth?". I wondered if there might be things, not just interesting on their own, but that we could be learning from each other, given that our lives had been similarly warped by the _leku mabla_ and his minions.

 _Certainly others from the military trade such tales?  
_ Certainly it had not been in my expectations for Sephiroth to stop mid-step, nor for him to be looking to the floor. It had not been my goal to bring up darker thoughts, and I fought an urge to fiddle with the charmless void below my neck while also reaching for a saving thing to say. Perhaps I'd been too much leaning on its power as something of a crutch?  
 _Have you ever tried to run, or to even walk without a crutch when injured?  
_ That thing didn't need an answer, and yes - both efforts for stopping and for saying failed with misery. Despite, it was my very pleasant of surprises to hear something of a laugh, and see an inkling of smile shining from behind the silver curtain Mr. Sephiroth's hair was resembling just then.

* * *

— _And finally, we move forward once again. —_

Adrenaline seldom leads to good decisions, outside of life and death scenarios, but I have adrenaline to thank for returning my senses to their proper place. Something in Kilara's posture, and the way her hands worried at her shirt - exactly where the little charm might hang, had I not still been wearing it - corrected my perspective.  
 _Why did I even hesitate? She knows. Even if she didn't, if there's been no judgement yet, I highly doubt_ this _will be what makes her run away._

I could almost find humor in the situation, and did after observation confirmed that Kilara's health was not at stake again.  
"Well first, and I promise it's okay - just Sephiroth, Kilara, please." I hated the reminder, subtle as it was, that I did not know - that I might not even have - a surname. As a consolation, her pronunciation had improved, and I found an odd pleasure in the idea that she might've practiced.  
"As for your question, there are many reasons, but I suppose it all comes down to the fact that there aren't many whom I trust to know the details. Hah...even if there were, I'm not sure anybody else has ever asked; most people just assume I've always had it. I think the rumor says that I was born with Masamune in my hand."  
One day I'd find whoever started that rumor, and probably _still_ find myself torn between thanking them, or throttling them for it.

Throttling aside, that answer was more honest than I'd been with myself, let alone another, in quite some time. And still it was not fully representative of my reasons and decision against sharing details of Masamune's origin, but it was as close I as could stand admitting, at least out loud.  
 _Outside of the facts themselves, most humans - normal people and even other SOLDIERs - are afraid of me; the rest just want to use me in one way or another - a tool of politics and death. Most wouldn't really care to listen, unless the information might, in some way, prove beneficial. And Hades take me now if such a thing might ever hit that ridiculous 'fanclub' newsletter...  
_ Trust me, you don't want to know.  
And for the record, I am anything but frivolous, and have no need for special (let alone ridiculous supplies of) _any_ hair care product.

My own half-truth aside, such a personal disclosure was something of a milestone for me, and though I hadn't really expected Kilara to fawn at the minor admission of trust, this expectation didn't dull a twinge of pain when her reaction was comprised mostly of confusion, then mixed with a twinge I read as abject fear.  
"I am trusted? Even after things, or being such the bother? I don't..." her voice trailed off, fingers still playing at the fabric of her shirt.

And it only stung until I understood. After, that pain just added to an anger I'd been simmering, hidden somewhere deep within my thoughts. I was not certain what she meant by _things_ , but I **did** know a certain someone who revelled in dehumanizing others, sometimes to a point where they might question such an obvious and glaring truth.  
I had, at least, always had ShinRa to buffer and, in some way, protect me from his worst - a poster boy needs some sense of self and must be confident, at least to a certain point.  
She was not afforded such a luxury, I'm certain.

"Kilara, though I'm not certain how exactly, I know I would not be alive if you hadn't been here. Of course I trust you, I..."  
 _I want you to trust me, so I can learn everything about you, unravelling the puzzle. I need to understand what it is you do to me. Gaia, I want to do things...  
_ That line of thinking was not productive for the moment, and probably wasn't safe given what I'd deduced regarding her abilities. I'd been aware, waiting for that tingle and quickly banishing such thoughts, even though the odd feeling never came.

During the mental battle with myself, I'd also, finally, removed her necklace. It is not that I'd been afraid to take it off before, and I _knew_ the charm had some effect; I'd just been too wrapped up in myself to see just how much its absence was affecting her.  
That had to be a part of it, and of her seemingly fragile instability. I hoped it was, given the alternatives.  
 _No, she's far to strong to have been broken_ _ **now**_ _, not even by what happened. I_ _ **know**_ _it, somehow! Revelations that almost took my own sanity - she's been living with that knowledge, probably for years! This cannot be my fault, not directly - how could she stand my presence if it was?_

"Here, I think you need this more than I do, now." She took the pendant from where I held it out, dangling between us. I'd thought originally to tie it for her, before realizing the girl might not react well to my hands so close around her neck again. Really, that was for the best; maybe Genesis could be so forward, but Kilara wasn't just some late night adventure meant to blow off steam. I sincerely wanted her to stay a while. I found every aspect interesting, and there was so much more to learn and puzzle out.  
 _*sigh*  
_ I also could not guarantee my own ability to keep those hands from wandering, or to keep my arms from encircling her whilst I flailed to both explain and sate this gnawing _ache_.  
Though I believe myself a skeptic, between not only her appearance or crucial role in my recovery, but also the piano, the serenity of being allowed to hold her, and of course the sparring - these coupled with things she'd said and things I was about to say - together I found myself thinking about fate.  
 _It must be fate..._

 _Or shell shock,_ I considered, wishing to cling to the impersonality of logic despite that ache I'd mentioned. If it was a danger, now would be the time; now, when adrenaline was wearing off as reality set in. There would be good reason, even outside of my...attack; she'd lost someone who seemed very close. Given my theory of an escape straight into the slums, who knows how long Kilara had been running, how long she'd been able to avoid processing Shiva only knows what trauma?

"I, yes thank you Mr.-err-just Sephiroth," Kilara's voice cut into that last rumination, and I was pleased to see her looking miles better, now that the little charm hung where it belonged. "And not just for the star's return, but for - and even though I know I'm owing much in explanations - but for being kind and having that thing...trust." The girl was definitely improved, given that she'd managed to hold eye contact through the message - only glancing downward, seemingly embarrassed, after a few heartbeats worth of silence.  
"Think nothing of it. You're feeling better now, right? I hadn't meant to keep that..."  
"Yes, and no, I was not so sure myself. I mean yes, I am well and should be. But...if any things go strange...or anything at all, you will tell me, yes?" Kilara's sincerity was difficult to brush off lightly, just as her concern was, in turn, concerning.  
"Of course," _It's just an issue of self-confidence, I'm fine because she fixed me, somehow._ The assurance wasn't meant to be a lie towards either one of us; I just felt this topic going stale, so kept my answer short and without any caveats.  
I'd brushed across the tip of something, an idea that might finally propel us out of this revolving tension toward more pleasant subjects. There was just one more thing, of which I needed to be certain, before we could move on...

 _Hmmm...'Mr. *err* just Sephiroth' - sense of humor has recovered well, along with mentioning_ that _subject without staring glassy-eyed. Even in her gait and posture, suddenly there's life again. I wonder...how?  
_ In truth I didn't wonder, I _knew_ PTSD (at least beyond quirks, ingrained years ago and likely as a means of self-defense) was not the cause of this swing to and from fragility. I'd studied psychology for years, and that explanation didn't fit; hell I'd felt the power of her little charm firsthand!  
In a way, I found this all tremendously relieving.  
I'm honest enough to admit, at least to myself, just how ill-equipped I'd be to help her heal in such a situation. But when it came to strange and foreign magic, ghosts and demons, or even phantasmic mind control...well I doubt anyone else, save Kilara herself, had more direct experience.  
 _Which brings us full circle...who and what_ are _you, Miss Kilara?_ _ **Why**_ _are you...? Why am I?_

"But also," I began, wishing to move forward; this was not the time to get caught up in another loop of mystery, and the only way to solve either would be learning more about - and growing closer to - her, anyway. "The others, Angeal and Genesis, should be back soon, and I'll introduce you properly at that time. They're shopping, and I hope to offer a more appropriate breakfast than apples and army surplus peanut spread. For now, in the interim - if you are still interested in the history of my sword, Masamune?"  
"I, yes and please! I think I'd like to know more things about you, new and silver friend, even if-no-just that and that I would." Whether it was just the wind or central air, I couldn't say, but I _believe_ Kilara's fingers brushed stealthily through my hair, quick and gently on the ends; she was growing bold again.  
 _Good.  
_ I wondered, with a more than moderate sincerity, where one might procure a backup charm as well.  
 _Perhaps later I might ask directly. There are other plans right now._  
"Come," my head inclined, directing, "I want to show you something; it's an important addition to the story. I believe it might be prudent for you to tour the house as well." The implication, that I expected Kilara to remain a guest, didn't even cause a flinch.  
 _Very good._

— _Finally, it might be story time! -_


	15. Chapter 15

_\- Latest update is just some typo correction, but the next chapter should be coming soon. Truly. -_

 _A/N (1): So...I re-wrote this from first to third person, bringing back our omniscient friend the narrator - then back to first, as I think it has to be in first._

 _I'm trying something, with the text formatting, and I do hope it works out. Mostly I just didn't want you to have to deal with_ _ **giant**_ _blocks of quoted text.  
_ _The two POV blocks that begin the chapter are new additions - things that were necessary to clean up the edges of previous additions, but beyond that I did not alter much from the year old draft._

 _And I do have additional thoughts on those, but will save them for the end-of-chapter notes. If it seems too stuffy, I implore you to at least read the origin story bits. (It's not that I'm dissatisfied with the additions...but I worry they're too much)._

 _On a higher note, we're back to ~10k words per post. I suppose that's not necessarily a good thing, considering we cover all of maybe thirty minutes, but it's my thing so...so that is how things are._

 _Also, I believe I missed a strikethrough (and compensating for it on this silly platform that doesn't allow such things), but cannot find it. If and/or when I do, that will be corrected._

* * *

 _\- Your trusted third person narrator...was going to return, but we changed our minds. -_

Surrendering the necklace, therefore proving that I didn't _need_ it, tempted the return to old habits, I believe. The situation, which had forced an amount of introspection, moreso than the girl was to blame, but recognizing my own defense mechanisms, and actually changing those aspects of myself, were two very different things.  
Despite everything that had occurred, I reeled at the thought of her finding out that she might have - that _I_ might have given her, _willingly -_ some sort of power over me.

At the same time, considering what I'd experienced of the alternative, I found myself amenable to exploring those illogical, human, aspects of my psyche. The end result, whether out of pride or stubbornness, was an outright refusal to glance backwards. My other senses could be trusted to confirm Kilara was following behind.

Our mutual, unspoken agreement to veer away from heavier subjects was not unappreciated, but something still felt off. I did not _want_ to be harangued by such confusion! Whatever the case, though, it was likely permanent; excising that demon had left my "mental defenses" thrashed. And, psychosomatic or not, I could feel the absence of that odd charm.  
 _A challenge then? I'm looking forward to it. Such is what I do!_

I knew it wasn't the just missing jewelry causing my discomfort, though, and that the rising sense of queasiness was not food-related. This was all new territory - not wholly alien, but still unexplored and potentially dangerous, wild in nature.  
 _Is this what they mean, when speaking of butterflies interfering with digestion?  
_ Until recently, my own innards had always remained insect-free. Of course, also - until quite recently - I had believed that I was human, and had no trouble defining where others stood in my mental hierarchy.  
Things were much more...complicated, lately.

Anyway, escaping the trap that is introspection...

We had just reached my chosen destination; yes, the tour had been something of a ruse.  
Of course I did not _need_ to remind myself of anything, but took a moment anyway, to confer with my inner thoughts, as any sane individual might do from time to time. It is not as if I had any decent reason to _not_ trust myself...ha...ha.

 _Sparring with her had been revealing in ways I'd not anticipated, but perhaps I'm reading too far into things. But, what if I'm not? What if she can hear me, somehow? Kilara?  
_ I waited, watching the girl for any signs she might've heard the thought, but she seemed oblivious, and I hadn't felt that electric sensation in a while.  
No, all I felt at the moment was ridiculous, and so returned to thinking.

The session had been exhilarating, and still was, in a sense. Even thinking on it, replaying parts over and again in my imagination caused an acceleration of my heart rate, and more strange flutterings in the chest and abdominal regions. Arrhythmia seemed unlikely, given my body's strength and healing abilities, leaving very few valid explanations. Was it cowardly to wish for something purely medical to be the cause?

Things used to be that easy.

 _But she, herself, had said as much: there are pieces in place. To ignore them - whether out of spite or dread - is still relinquishing control of_ _ **my**_ _life to other forces. True power is not just the choice itself, but also the reasoning behind it.  
_ _Even if these sensations - these wisps that might be feeling - even if they_ are _nothing more than...altered?...perhaps_ enhanced _reactions to oxytocin and dopamine, brought on by our genetic similarities, or possibly the removal of_ _ **that**_ _influence… Either way, whether for the puzzle or the prize, this step one is clear._

 _The time has come for one more ghost to cease its haunting. One way or another, I_ _ **am**_ _starting down a new path in life, and will_ _ **not**_ _carry unnecessary burdens!  
_ _And if the old man's prophetic ramblings ring true, it will be because_ _ **I**_ _choose to make it so.  
_ I do not second guess myself, after all.  
 _I am in control._

Comfortably back in character, and answering Kilara's quizzical expression with "trademark" knowing smirk, I motioned to a nearby door.  
"After you, please."  
Inside was what one might call a smoking den, whose decor was rife with deep reds and heavily stained woods - complete with dim lamps, kitschy knicks-knacks (that did _not_ belong to me, personally), and overstuffed armchairs. I believe the goal had been a 'classy' look, but the original decorator has no class to speak of, and managed only to create a sense of stuffiness and gaudy insincerity.

Had it not been for the item in question, I would have omitted the room from Kilara's 'tour' entirely. One could tell the place itself made her uneasy, as if the previous owner's personality had somehow permanently marred the atmosphere; I _had_ wondered, and felt a stab of almost guilt for my need to sate that curiosity.  
Almost, as there was another reason we were in here.

"Kilara," I tried to make the girl more comfortable, in my way. "Over here by the hearth. It is this den's one saving grace, wouldn't you agree?" The large fireplace was carved from solid marble, and took up the majority of the far wall. Kilara followed me over, but stopped exactly 3 steps behind and to my left, falling into her version of parade rest.  
Just as she had in the hallway a few minutes earlier, only now her eyes were on the floor.

The room was silent; I was not angered by Kilara, just by her reaction, and did not trust my voice to properly conceal the rage I'd thought I'd pushed away to cool. Was I going to have to say it? The thought alone was almost too much - gave too much legitimacy to the possibility itself!  
 _I would never allow myself to act, or to even think in a manner similar to that..._

 _Hmm...  
_ I had to wonder if she _could_ feel or sense something, though. The hearth drew the eye, and that was its purpose - to keep attention off of the bookcases. One of them opened to reveal a secret passage.  
As far as what's beyond that passage? I do not know, nor do I want to, barring some dire need to explore the area. I doubt it leads to anything worth the time or stomach contents of sane, rational beings.

Maybe I had not guarded my expression well enough, and perhaps it was time to wonder why I still felt the need to keep it guarded, but something nudged Kilara forward to stand next to me. Perhaps it was something simple, such as interest in the ornate carvings of the marble distraction - she did reach out, gingerly brushing the stone with one hand - but I do not think so.  
It was only once I'd felt it, that flicker of energy, that the girl relaxed, lifting the same limb to hide an apologetic half-smile.

"Old habits," Kilara started, "they have a way of refusing to be dead. Thank you for reminders."  
We _would_ need to discuss exactly what it was that she could do, but for the time being it was pleasing enough just to have her standing properly by my side.  
 _Where she belongs._

...

 _Well, at least my_ _ **outward**_ _poise has not been compromised.  
_ I was lost on an appropriate response and nodded dumbly, humming a generic acknowledgement in lieu of the less appropriate responses that had come to mind.  
I was just stalling, why?  
From the moment she first freed me from the haze, I'd known, even if I had not understood _what_ it was I knew at the time.  
 _If Angeal hadn't dropped that glass...I probably would have just...so why don't I..._

The answer to that was the answer to another question, the one remaining explanation for what were more likely to be moths than butterflies gnawing at my organs.  
It did not matter whether I was correct, or lost in some Genesis-esque fantasy and mysticism - she would stay or laugh and leave. At worst, nothing would change.  
Shouldn't that be at best?  
But, what if _he'd_ been right about just one thing? Broken clocks are correct twice per day, I've heard. He is not a clock, but...

 _But it's what *I* do. What if I cannot help but cause her harm? I_ _ **need**_ _more certainty, assurance I could not, even if I wanted to.  
_ I also needed a reason to remove my gloves. If this was all delusion, and she only let me touch her one more time before we parted ways, I did not want the sensation to be dulled.

* * *

 _\- Kilara...of all the times to abstain from using your abilities...at least, of all the times to **try** to... -_

"Anyway, Kilara, I wanted to begin here," even with his tallness, Sephiroth had to stretch himself to reach the mantle's top. From that top he took a thing that looked to be a photo frame, but if there was a picture inside, he meant to keep it hidden. "To show you something that..."

My new friend - or at least I decided to call him that more often in my thoughts - he had been losing words a lot today. It is true that I did not have many days to call comparison, but it is hard to imagine angels who don't know what to say sometimes. And I did not want to pry, or to pry further, but I had not liked the feel of air in here...  
Anyway, I had been good and only pried a little - just enough to know how-or-if I'd made him angry- so still I had to ask the thing. "It seems like you are holding some things back, or do not wish to say them? It is not a story I need to hear, if too difficult to tell. And I have explored at least some of house, enough I'm sure. I could-"  
 _...find my own way out._

"No," the word held weight, and for a moment I wondered if the idea's end had slipped to voice, though I was also sure it hadn't. This thought was nice, not that one, but the one where maybe I could stay a little longer _and_ was not being an annoyance. And not just because my energies were still very much in deficit, but because the company was nice, and Emile would not be waiting, and I liked not feeling lonely, even if it meant I might be selfish.  
 _Stop,_ I was feeling silly with myself, _you know it is just a room, and that he cannot know those memories...be more of the confidence before you make him sick._

Sephiroth was still speaking, also trying to keep the air from growing thicker. "It's not difficult," my angel laughed, or something close I'm sure. "I just do not know how to...here, just tell me what you see. If anything at all." The picture was still hidden when the frame was put into my hands, at least until I turned it over.  
Were it not for self-control, I think I might have made a squeak at the adorable!

"It is you? But so much smaller," almost I went to touch the glass, but pulled back before smudges were a risk. He looked so young, standing with his hair tied back and in a uniform I recognized as Shinra-something, but different from the current one.  
 _This is so much of cute in many ways!  
_ "It is," he put one hand under the frame, helping to support it, then stepping closer to an almost-bodies-touching distance. The leaning down, as if to tell a secret, almost had me squeaking for a different reason.  
 _Breathe and count and do not think and keep yourself together!_

"As far as I'm aware, this is the only photo that was ever taken of me as a child. The only one before I made SOLDIER first-class anyway," he gently slid the frame away, stretching away to replace it face-down upon the mantle, "and was taken just a few weeks after I acquired Masamune." I still felt warm and tingles, but at least could breathe and speak again.  
 _Didwas that on purpose? No, no it must be still adrenaline from earlier and my teasing while we sparred. I should take a longer shower...and think of other things until then._

A question was in mind, but with other thoughts distracting, I did not think the question through. '"Mis- ..err, friend Sephiroth, that is the same sword? But it...cannot b- ..." For one second I felt horror, to have questioned so directly, but only for one second. "Not that I meant..." Angels know that questions do not equal accusations of untruth, and the not-rage in his eyes proved without doubts he was an angel truly.

"I knew you'd notice," the cheerful was contagious, and pushed away the remnants of tension in the air. I still felt much tension in some other ways or places, but even that was lessened by this idea that we might be sharing something _really_ secret.  
"The sword you used in sparring...I am sorry, but that is truly a replica of the real-and-steel thing? One-to-one in all?"  
"Yes, Kilara, the size and weight are accurate, I am certain."

There were even more of _other_ tensions when friendSephiroth took my hand away and down, as if to smile was allowed. I know it was, but...sometimes bad habits are better than the worse ones. And sometimes other things as well.  
Anyway, my hand - he did not let it go right after.

* * *

 _\- The shells thinned, but did not yet dissolve. -_

Even I can only suppress so much, and finally broke when Kilara reflexively covered up her grin, again. For the time being, that hand would be mine.

"That aspect," _how can I explain? She doesn't seem aware of the media...  
_ "It's why I allow the press their rumors, and don't speak about Masamune's origins in public." As expected, Kilara cocked her head slightly, questioning the context. "The SOLDIERs of my and similar rank are...for as much as I dislike the idea, some treat us as celebrities. It helps the war effort, or did when there _was_ a war to speak of." I could see the tangent questions forming, hoping to head them off without hurting the girl's feelings. "If you really want, I can tell you more about that later, but for now - I do want to tell you about the sword first, okay?"

"Oh, yes...that is much the more interesting, I think." Kilara had begun exuding a different, lighter version of nervousness since I'd commandeered her limb, but still did not try to free herself as I led us from the stuffy parlour.  
The pseudo-tour required us to visit one other specific location, but only after I'd filled in some more details of the story.  
"You can see, she's more than just a sword, somehow, and has literally _grown_ up with me...always was exactly the right fit, if you think you could believe such a thing possible."

* * *

 _\- Jarring as it is, your trusted and omniscient narrator takes the reigns… -_

A part of him had hoped that she might pick up on such a detail. Sephiroth did not believe in 'signs,' but, lately, he was less averse to the thought of omens. "The man who crafted my sword was...well, in truth I am not certain, but he was something more than just a blacksmith."  
He hadn't meant to test her, but as soon as it occurred, Sephiroth _knew._ He knew also that he had to harness this impulse, using it to finish what he'd started - to confirm without a doubt the words he'd spent a decade trying to ignore, if not deny.

"What you saw was the sixth iteration of my practice weapon. You're the first to ever notice," managing a lively inflection (in truth, an almost _any_ inflection was progress) further lightened the atmosphere as the stifling room was left behind. He would need to head off any questions before that mood was threatened; the momentum would be needed later.  
"I don't know why everyone seems blind to the changes, but have come to believe _that_ , itself, to be another facet of the Masamune's power. Even I did not catch on at first, not until the Wutai campaign was winding down. Once I had nothing but downtime, to think and ponder, I... I am..."  
 _I am_ _ **not**_ _going to sabotage myself,_ Sephiroth reprimanded internally, pushing aside the urges to clam up or release the hand he still possessed. The war had made him famous, not that fame had been his primary goal, and it was not a thing he remembered fondly.

Instead, he - the SOLDIER General _who did not fear a thing_ \- took another moment to breath in deeply, then pushed out the most difficult words he'd spoken in ages. "I am pleased," he paused, knowing that was not the correct word. "Never mind that. Anyway, I cannot explain the technology...or maybe it is magic, but yes, Masamune seemed to grow up _with_ me. I mention this because, well, there are occurrences in this story that I cannot properly explain. They are, among other things, why few people know the entire truth surrounding the origins of my weapon."  
 _That, and outside of that awful 'fanclub' grievously misinterpreting certain aspects, I doubt anyone else would care, as long as I used the thing to kill their enemies and detractors. But I should not derail myself, there is still at least one more thing..._

"Many do not know?" Kilara asked, still resolutely unaware of her companion's inner monologue, despite a growing curiosity and urge to lean back on her talents once again. Being uninformed was not something she was used to.  
"No. Genesis and Angeal, the two who I hope will provide a proper breakfast soon," he checked his watch, wincing at the time, "they know more of the truth than most, but..."  
But, Sephiroth knew he could not divulge that whole truth now, and without proper context, "Hmm," the general stalled for a few breaths, unsure whether the chill running down his spine was caused by reluctance of his own, or by the girl's undefined power. Either way, the sensation left him bereft of clever tactics.  
Again Sephiroth _knew -_ the window of opportunity did not care about his comfort zone.

"Kilara, is that something you could believe, if I asked for the benefit of the doubt and offered almost no supporting evidence? Not just that aspect though. As a whole, it might be difficult to...to believe some things I'm about to tell you. I would like you to try, though, if you're able. After what just happened, what I - _we -_ survived...I have no reason to be anything but truthful, and I think it would be beneficial for someone to know the full details. It would be good for _you_ to know them."

The girl was quiet, thinking. Her angel was trying to not stare.  
Seconds felt like hours, heavy and oppressive - made that much worse by the heavy pounding in Sephiroth's chest - before she finally answered.  
"Of course I can do this thing. Already, you are and must be knowing that _I_ might know more than many things most others have forgotten, but even I do not know all of things. Yes?" Kilara continued before her friend could pick apart the rapidly fired, oddly phrased, word-jumbled answer. "But also, silver friend - and not for any reasons related to believing - but...might I meet this sword in person? Such a thing of art..." Kilara's eyes were shining, as if the thought alone brought her close to tears. "It was...I think I might've glimpsed this before, but...perhaps it would just be nice, to experience in person what must be quite the masterpiece."

* * *

 _\- The camera angle changes, as will the common meaning of italics, shortly. -_

Eyes half-closed in rumination, navigating almost by memory alone, Sephiroth led Kilara through the building. Their pace was leisurely, given that the route was optimized more for killing time than providing information. "Of course, Kilara. Masamune herself is currently on the second floor, and I will personally introduce you, I promise. There is one more thing I want to show you, though - for as much of a tour as this has been so far - once you've heard some of her history. It is something you'll enjoy; I'm almost certain the wait will be worthwhile."

The general nearly snickered, wondering if she could sense that the ruse he felt was far too thinly veiled. Either way, Sephiroth was thankful she hadn't "heard" the details inadvertently; he could not be wholly certain, but believed that she had not.

It was almost like a game, though he did not quite understand the rules.  
 _Just another why and how added to the comically large pile...but I should have some answers soon.  
_ "Now, as for how I came to wield a blade like Masamune..."

* * *

 _\- Cue that change as we travel back... -_

 _I was ten, almost eleven I believe - young, but already part of SOLDIER - a second class captain at the time. Even as a_ child _...well, I'm sure you understand, Kilara.  
_ _*sigh*  
_ _Of course, my primary residence was within the ShinRa building, as it had been for as long as I can remember. My own parents...back then I believed them deceased, and that the professor - perhaps stemming from some sense of duty, as he indicated he'd known my parents before their supposed death - had adopted me at their behest. I no longer believe that to be the truth, but it is also not so important to the story. Just a detail that-  
_ _...  
_ _Gaia I hope he's not, somehow...  
_ _No, never mind, as I said it's not important - moving onward..._

Sephiroth hadn't said the name aloud, or even thought it, but Kilara's body stiffened, again radiating tension at the slightest insinuation. Her apprehension was well understood, and when the woman's hand tightened around his own, Sephiroth passed no judgement, returning the gesture in solidarity. The rat would probably be infuriated if he ever found out they'd bonded over such a mutual hatred.  
This thought pleased the general.

Sephiroth had not, in all honesty, expected things to progress as smoothly as they had so far, and resisted the urge to wonder if the girl remembered what his alter-self had done to her, or the other things it almost had. It was not uncommon for pessimism to weasel its way into any pleasant ideas or encounters he might be lucky enough to experience, nor was it uncommon for him retreat inward, brooding over such thoughts alone and in silence. Today, though, was uncommon. Whether it was the girl herself, or just the fact that the was not alone, Sephiroth pushed away the sour interruptions and continued onward with his tale.  
Kilara's reassuring grip certainly didn't hurt, either.  
 _*Breathe. Walk. Relax. Nothing carries meaning without proof, and the reaction only proves that he was generous with his cruelty and instability. It wasn't just my, or my fault._ *

Despite the surprising sense of comfort his companion's presence seemed to offer, that pang of unease was continuing to twist itself up and along our storyteller's spine, as if bolstered by the memories prying at the corners of his concentration. He glanced down, watching his companion, while hoping to catch her eyes and evaluate her current mental status. Though Kilara's irises had darkened slightly, Sephiroth could tell that she was _present_ , and not in danger of falling into troubled memories or, Gaia forbid, another trance-like state.  
Triggering more flashbacks now was **not** on the agenda, and he vowed to be more careful with both words and thoughts for now.

Satisfied for the moment, Sephiroth continued: _It was obvious I'd climb the ranks of SOLDIER quickly, even moreso in hindsight. There were open bets, already, on how quickly I'd make first class, general, or if I'd be given some new as-yet undefined rank and designation.  
_ _I think...I am not certain what_ **I** _wanted, really, and refused to see how little my own wants mattered to them anyway. Perhaps I wished to ensure that, even if I was to be the odd one out - that people were afraid of me. It would be something, at least, within my control, and_ _ **his**_ _advice or interference seemed to only make things worse.  
I suppose I'd opted to ensure, at least, that others would respect me. Whether that meant as a person, or as a thing to fear, I'd convinced myself I didn't care. I had not yet learned that fear and respect were not synonyms - and it was beneficial to those around me to delay that lesson for as long as possible...but this is a pleasant story overall, I promise; please feel free to interrupt if I lose myself to negativity._

Kilara smiled, albeit sadly, and nodded. She did not want to open that container of unpleasant, either.  
After a few seconds, when he was certain she did not want to speak, Sephiroth continued.  
 _The war in Wutai was just ramping up, so there was an abundance of opportunity to stand out, to make a name for myself...  
_ _*sigh*_

 _The point, I suppose, is that I was an arrogant child back then, thinking I was just naturally the best and superior in everything. Gen' and 'Geal hadn't yet joined, and only they had ever_ really _challenged me. For the most part, anyway, I was kept isolated socially, and did not know that my 'talent' was artificial. At the time it made sense that others were just jealous.  
_ _Looking back, the rapid fluctuations between praise and punishment just left me confused most of the time, but at least physical strength could be proven, demonstrated to others. That was what I began to cling to, as it was the only thing that seemed to provide consistent results, positive results.  
_ _I'd no idea the truth, that I was just some rogue **experiment**._

Sephiroth might have spat the words, or perhaps spat after them, were they not indoors. He worked to shove the bitter, angry thoughts down, focusing instead on the positives of the present and the past. He concentrated on Kilara's fingers, still twined within his own; she did not - or, perhaps could not - offer solid eye contact, but the tight grip was certainly a comfort and encouragement.  
After a brief pause, the story continued.

 _Anyway, the way I saw it, if I was going to truly shine within the military - if I was going to stand out for my strength - I needed my own, unique weapon. All of the great names carried custom blades - often family heirlooms, though more for decoration than fighting in some cases. ShinRa agreed, or at least did not disagree, and granted me permission to obtain one...if I could. I'm sure they were just beginning to imagine how lucrative the publicity campaigns might prove themselves to be.  
_ _As I had no family and no heirlooms, my blade would be exclusively for fighting, and it would have be the best, most impressive weapon anyone had ever seen! I look back at that boy, who I was...I'd bought into the fame, at least a little, at that point.  
_ _*sigh*  
_ _It is of no importance now._

The general, still leading Kilara slowly through the mansion, glanced down - caught. She happened to be studying him closely in that instant, and did not immediately look away.  
Sephiroth was beginning to regret his honesty, "I could tell you I was young, or even that my priorities were influenced more by others than my own beliefs, but those would only be excuses." He changed their course, taking the opportunity to look away as they navigated through the music room and another dining hall.

They had almost cleared the room before Kilara broke the silence, "It is sounding like you took a lesson from those years, though." The girl was far too kind sometimes, "This is good, I think. Many resist such self-teaching, or maybe cannot learn," she held a wistful look, then seemed to shake it off. "There is more, yes?"  
"Yes," he thought better of elaborating, and told himself Kilara understood the reasons 'thank you' remained a phrase unspoken. Sephiroth was not certain he understood the difference between explanation and excuse; neither had been tolerated if and when he made mistakes.

 _Suffice to say, I needed an iconic weapon, and living not far outside the city was a swordsmith - people said he was the greatest in a thousand years, if not the greatest ever. On top of that feat, he also was a well respected warrior who possessed knowledge of both bladecraft and blade usage. His name was_ _Gorō_ _Masamune, and he is my weapon's namesake._

Kilara nearly tripped over herself when Sephiroth identified the craftsman; he was not certain how to interpret the choked noise that left her throat, accompanying a fight for balance. The girl recovered quickly on her own, though, disappointing the part of Sephiroth that wished to catch her properly and again. Still, he knew it was better that he hadn't received the opportunity just yet.  
"I am so many apologies," the girl was embarrassed, again her accent seemed to thicken in some odd form of defense. "Even I have heard such of legends as exist. You have met that one? In truth and truly?"  
Her eyes were so wide, almost perfect circles, and held a bewitching mixture of both moisture and real awe. The general nodded, baffled and struck speechless by the power of Kilara's expression.  
It was all he could do to squeeze his other, empty hand - _hard -_ and try to continue speaking normally.

 _Yes. The master Masamune had retired, though, claiming that his best work was done and that he'd never make another weapon. Even all those years ago, Master Masamune was considered old - well beyond the age at which most men would retire.  
_ _There were also rumors that he quit because he was slowly going mad. The man had a penchant for mysticism - reading tea leaves, smoke, cards and crystals - things of that nature.  
_ _Either way I was selfish, and beginning to get used to having things my way, at least in military matters; I doubt they truly feared me, given the...*ahem*...tools at their disposal, but the ShinRa executives knew it was in their best interest to keep their pet appeased._

 _So, of course I didn't care why he'd quit, and I didn't see why he couldn't make just one more piece. Damn bastard raised me that way, tried to anyway. I was still useful to him personally at the time, I think, but I'm not...fuck, why am I even saying...dammit!  
_ "Seh-fee-roth?" Kilara flinched, at least only slightly, at her own pronunciation of the word; worry let the accent invade her speech sometimes. She had no reason to worry, though - that reminder was exactly the kind of grounding her companion needed.  
He felt an urge to apologize, though for what exactly, he wasn't certain. Perhaps it was the fleeting idea that, maybe, he could depend on her for that grounding in the future. And in hopes of bringing that future to fruition, he carried on, eager to reach the story's peak and pleased to see a soft expression on Kilara's face despite the minor twinge.  
Of _course_ she understood, right?

 _Anyway, It would be some time before things went downhill...but that doesn't matter in this context.  
_ _ShinRa certainly gave me more allowances than the other SOLDIERs, and had been grooming me to be the public face of SOLDIER for a while at that point.  
_ _Back then I fell right in and drank it up. Naive, I suppose._

Again, Sephiroth glanced down, and again to find that he was being studied. The girl's eyes were light once more, lilac rather than lavender - almost white, or diamond iridescent, he thought. Perhaps Kilara sought some trace of that cocky, albeit innocent, young man previously described.  
He'd have been surprised if she found any trace, though; what the years to come - both the war and the labs - hadn't destroyed could not have survived the most recent blow of truth.

Whatever the girl saw, it did not frighten her away, and that was all that mattered for the moment.  
The gentle motion of their stroll was almost just as soothing, coupled with the fact that Kilara had not yet broken their loose physical contact.  
She had not exactly acknowledged it, either, but could have easily pulled her hand away.

 _So, that all aside, I had set myself on a mission, one that I knew would not - could not - fail.  
_ _The old man lived up on a hill, just beyond the city plates. At that point I knew almost everything about him - his schedule, where he liked to shop, anything that might help formulate a plan; everything necessary to convince the master that he_ _ **had to**_ _make my sword. I'd spent weeks, maybe even months, studying Masamune before finally making an approach._

 _The first day, I met Masamune on his way home from the market. I was already up the hill, waiting at his gate, when he arrived carrying a heavy bundle of groceries. 'Sir,' I said politely, 'great master. My name is Sephiroth and I_ _ **am**_ _going to be the greatest soldier that ever lived - everyone always says so, so it must be true. Would you honour me by making one last sword, so that I may carry something worthy of my prowess?' Oh yes, I was conceited, and ignorant. A child.  
_ His last word held more bitterness and accusation than excuse or explanation; the latter never helped.  
Sephiroth scowled at the floor as if it were a mirror, asking himself when unadulterated truth had _ever_ been a good idea in the past.

"You cannot, truly, shoulder all of blame for being how you were, considering your options for the role-model, " Kilara cut in softly, cocking her head to obstruct the general's vision of the floor. The look in her eyes took a minute to recognize; it was not pity, as he's expected, but some kind of understanding. "And you _were_ , a child, yes? Unless the maths I know have changed," she taunted, biting her lower lip before the grin could reach full strength. It was a step in the right direction, at lest, that she didn't try to cover it immediately with the still-stolen limb.  
And this all helped Sephiroth to relax, as did the playfulness of Kilara's tone and posture.  
"I suppose that could be true, and I've grown to know much better anyway." He had not felt a thing, but wondered if she'd used some power to make things feel so...comfortable.  
"Now, where was I...?

 _Ah, yes. The old man barely spared a glance in my direction, 'I don't make swords anymore kiddo, sorry,' then he was gone, through the gate and making sure to lock it, leaving me outside.  
_ _I had been angry, offended at first, and in hindsight very stupid. I did not, at the time, understand how he - how_ _ **anyone**_ _\- could ignore me._ _ **Me!**_ _Silly childish...  
*cough*  
...I have, at least, matured since those days.  
_Sephiroth felt a need to make the point excruciatingly clear - he was not at all the same arrogant child now.  
That the man (did such human terms apply?) himself wasn't quite sure just _what_ he was anymore would, ideally, remain a hidden detail.

 _The next day, as he went shopping nearly every day, I met Masamune at the bottom of the hill. 'Here, let me help you carry those, sir' I said, taking the old man's heavy bags from him. This time, I didn't mention the sword, just wished him a good evening when we reached the cottage, then left.  
_ _For the next week, I met Masamune at the base of the hill and carried his groceries up. During that time, we began to speak like...like people do, I guess. We touched on every subject except swords. The old man seemed to really like me...I think.  
_ _*sigh*  
_ _That was something uncommon even back then; most people were too intimidated to even try getting to know me closely._ _  
_ _Bah!_ With a wave of his hand, Sephiroth banished the subject.

 _So, after that week, next time I met him - once we'd reached his gate, of course - I asked again. 'Master Masamune, I beg of you, please create a sword for me. I will pay any price, I will continue our visits, which are pleasant outside of this business. I will do anything. Please...I have no family to inherit from...' Gaia, I had even played up the orphan angle, *tsk.* I did feel somewhat bad - perhaps guilty - later, but at the time...well it seems to have worked, at least._

 _He looked at me, he seemed very stern and serious suddenly, but didn't answer outright; I could not tell if he was angry or just very disappointed, which was odd, now that I think about it. I seldom struggle to read others, but that doesn't matter now.  
_ _'Come in, Sephiroth, and join me for tea. We can at least discuss your wishes,' was what he said instead of answering a definite yes or no. We talked for a long time; he asked about the military, my goals, and even my thoughts on heroism. He asked many questions pertaining to my life, and if I was_ _ **happy**_ _, of all things._

 _'I think I am', I told him, 'but also - I've always felt different. Like there's some piece of a secret puzzle that other people have, but that I do not.' I'd...never admitted that before, and was not quite so direct in my initial answer. He coaxed the truth out of me, though. I suppose I'd come to think of the old man as something of a friend. Perhaps my best friend, at the time, really. And I still don't fully understand the reasons, but he made me feel comfortable, somehow._

Sephiroth stopped, vaguely dizzy; he hadn't realize how - or even _that_ \- recounting these details would have such an effect on his current mood. Luckily, they were passing by the kitchen again, having walked in a circle around most of the bottom floor, and this offered an opportunity to ground himself, concentrating on other things for a short while.  
"Can I offer you a drink," he asked, already pulling two glasses from a cabinet.  
"Oh, umm...yes, many thank yous. Just water would be nice, if you are not minding." Kilara looked like she might want to say more, but only managed a few 'umms' and other filler phrases. Sephiroth looked, and felt, like he'd prefer to pour a glass of brandy, but opted to join Kilara in the choice of something purely hydrating. He was above the need for crutches of that sort, anyway.

"I did not mean for that to get so..." the words _personal, dark,_ and _depressing_ crossed the general's mind again, but he did not speak them. "You seem like you wanted to ask a question, though. Did you?"  
Kilara smiled at the floor, "I think it is likely the answer will come with the finish of the story. If...if you are wishing to finish it, I think." She hid her expression behind a sip of water, giving Sephiroth a few seconds to think.  
He believed he understood - perhaps not _the_ point, but _a_ point - that the story would be dark if it ended here, but hadn't he promised a pleasant ending? No, he would not take the 'out' as offered.

"All right then, but know you may interject, or ask things, if you wish," he set their glasses on the sink before re-taking Kilara's hand, which had been released to fill the aforementioned dishes, and leading her back towards the mansion's main staircase.  
Once again, she did not reel or pull away, but also gave the gesture no acknowledgement.  
Females were perplexing creatures, this one especially.

 _"After we spoke for a while longer, Masamune asked a strange favour, 'Let me see your leaves, Sephiroth - you have an interesting aura, and live an interesting life it seems. I want to know how things might work out, once I'm gone.' I was not a believer in such superstition, but saw no harm in going along with it to assuage the old man's supposed curiosity. The 'once I'm gone' - it registered, but I chose to ignore the idea at the time. He was spry for his age, perhaps a bit eccentric, but by no means frail in mind or body._

 _Thinking back, I'm not sure if it was my answer to his questions about happiness, or perhaps the thought of his own mortality, but as he stared into that cup, Masamune grew somber. Thoughtful, but with an air of some deep, hidden despair. I could not accept that there was anything to see, let alone the idea that something he'd seen might've contributed to his change in temperament._

 _I'd honestly expected a lecture about how one could be happy with what they had; that any weapon would suit me, and he'd seen as much in my future. I expected more placation and denial of my original request. But Masamune said nothing. He just got up from the table, signalling that our visit was over. Silent, save for a heavy sigh.  
_ _I was...displeased, bothered at how quickly I was asked to leave after the rather personal discussion, but held my tongue. I would try again tomorrow - determination was something I had in abundance. And truly, I did not mind the pleasant company and conversations. Already most people feared me...treated me differently, but he did not._

 _As I neared the door to leave, he put his hand on my shoulder in what I imagine was a fatherly manner. 'Boy,' he said, 'You're going to fly so damn high in life, you're right - you are the best and people will see that. But I worry that the higher you go, the harder it's going to be for you if you fall. You keep that in mind, ok? Promise that, and I'll make your damn sword' - he then quoted a price that was much, much lower than I'd expected. I wonder if he even made a profit after materials...but at the time I did not notice nor care, selfish in my own victory. 'Come back in a couple of weeks,' he said, 'to pick it up.' I thanked him enthusiastically, and told him that I'd still come visit, but that I would be promoted to first class soon, so it might not be as often as before."_

* * *

 _\- But now you need to hear *him*... -_

We were about halfway up the stairs now, just standing, staring over the railing and getting lost in the story. Kilara turned to look at me, "did you?" she asked? It was the first time in a while she'd made direct eye contact.  
"Did I what?"  
"Go back to visit him, after you got what is was you wanted?" There was not malice in the question, nor any accusation; she seemed genuinely curious. I would have rather she kicked me in the ribs; such a kick is what her question felt like.  
"Not for a while," I admitted, dropping my own eyes to the floor, and still feeling somewhat guilty all these years later. "I told myself it was because I had to train, had to fight...but really I think I just didn't care once I'd gotten what I wanted. It is a regret I carry to this day, given that I legitimately hold a deep respect for Masamune and his work. For the man himself, beyond those things."

 _A few years later though - on a whim - I did go back up that hill, to the little cottage. The old man was out chopping wood, and waved me over...surprised that I had come, I think.  
_ _Perhaps I was looking for some nostalgic feeling; maybe I had started losing some of that arrogance. Either way I found myself glad to be back and visiting. I had seen a number of battles by this point, gained some perspective and matured. Anyway, and not in hopes of a reward, this time, I took his axe and began chopping wood for him while we caught up. I'd made my way to first class, everyone knew my name, knew how_ good _I was._

 _The old man listened quietly as I recounted story after story, claiming that he didn't have much in the way of family or deviation from routine to speak of. When the conversation lulled, he asked me again 'So, are you happy now?' I thought about it - everything I'd dreamed so far, I'd achieved. But..'no' I told him, 'I'm still not happy...but I keep busy, and that's enough for now. If anything, I'm bored.'  
_ _Again, the man looked pensive, eyes distant and a little sad. We stood for a minute before he shook away whatever thoughts he'd decided not to share, and simply said, 'I'm sorry.' After that he saw me out, having some personal matters to attend to._

"I'm glad I made the visit, though in hindsight, I do wish I would have gone more often. I heard he was gone - I assumed dead, but I suppose I don't know for sure - a few weeks later."  
My breathing wasn't as even as it should have been; I did not like that aspect of the truth. Kilara, surprising me, squeezed my hand, "Well, I hope your story has a happier kind of ending, friendSephiroth." She smiled, earnest in that hope, and when it reached up to light her eyes, I could not help but agree.  
"Hmm, I believe it does - shall we?"  
"Yes, please" she nodded, a graceful bob of the head, and we began the final leg of the walk that had not turned out to be a tour. There was something in Kilara's inflection, when she'd said 'your story,' but by the time I'd caught it...well I presumed it meant she already knew the answer.

 _"So, he said he'd make the sword - I was delighted, bragging to anyone who would listen, or at least pretend to. I was counting down the days - and on the fourteenth, practically sprinted to that little house on the hillside. I was almost bouncing with excitement when I knocked on Masamune's door.  
_ _The old man invited me inside, asking if I'd like to sit and chat for a while. I didn't really, I was excited to see his masterpiece, but I thought better of that and didn't want to cause offense, since he hasn't yet mentioned finishing the weapon. In truth, Masamune was a nice old man, and knew I wouldn't have to wait much longer. I could spare a few minutes of company and good manners._

 _We sat and conversed about this and that, then eventually he said my name, 'Sephiroth.' I was actually quite surprised, as he almost always called me 'boy,' though never in a condescending sense; that was just the old man's manner. Anyway, Masamune continued, 'Do you remember what I told you, about flying high, and having that much farther to fall?'  
_ _'I do sir,' I said. And I did remember, but could not fathom ever falling. I was the famous; I had a fan club. I...was ShinRa's fucking...poster-boy..."  
_ _  
*ahem*_ I half coughed, shaking out the caustic thoughts.  
Again.  
"Apologies..."  
Kilara smiled sweetly, excusing my outburst, though she'd returned to trying to cover the expression and pulled her hand from my own to do so. I would need to keep in mind that my anger, though not directed _at_ the girl, still had an effect. I did not want to scare, or hurt, her.

 _"So, after that, Masamune said, 'Well, there's more to it than that son,' and at this point the man was getting up. He looked to be grabbing a wrapped parcel. I held my breath, so excited I was probably buzzing audibly as he brought it over."  
_ We entered the office, and I casually made my way to the far wall, unlocking an opaque case that sat within the inlaid shelving. This case was quite easy to miss, unless one was looking for it, and had remained locked for so long I worried that it might not unlatch.

Eventually, and without too much force, I heard that telltale click, but did not open anything just yet. First, I would have to tell the best, possibly most difficult, part of Masamune's story, and so stayed leaning on the bookcase. I wanted to appear casual.  
No, yes, I _wanted_ to lean in close, to whisper this last part, and perhaps to feel Kilara shiver when I did so. But I did not want to frighten her away, instead forcing myself to stand back - trying to not loom over the small, no - _petite,_ woman.

 _"The master sat his parcel down, but didn't unwrap it. Instead, he continued talking. I told myself that it couldn't be much longer now, so choose to wait, to listen to what the old man had to say. He was eccentric, but also remarkably wise at times. 'My boy, you_ _ **are**_ _going to rise high, and you're going to do it because you're ruthless, cunning, and you don't give a damn about anyone but yourself - if even that much.' I was a little taken aback by the harsh words, but he wasn't incorrect...that's just how life was. He continued, 'but one day, you_ _ **are**_ _going to fall, Sephiroth. What few friends you've managed to find...well if if you don't lose them, you're going to think you have. You're going to question all of it, and why you did it. I think you'll get through, but you're going to be broken...shattered.'"_

I had to concentrate, to steady my breathing and my speech. SOLDIERs do _not_ succumb to such petty things as their emotions, no matter how correct their mentor's words!  
 _"'But,' he said 'it's not all that bad. When you're down there, questioning your own humanity, you're going to find something; or perhaps something will come find you. Either way, that something is going to reach down to try to pull you up, to try to teach you to, finally, give a damn about something other than yourself and your power. It'll be up to you to swallow your damn pride and accept that, though.'"_

I opened the case, rolling the top back into the shelf. Kilara gasped, "It's...such beautiful..." Her hand shot towards the object but, seemingly embarrassed, she stopped herself; pulled back. It was difficult to look in her direction; I was afraid she'd make me look into her eyes, and I wasn't ready for that yet.

For all I wanted to retake her hand, to place it on the hilt and under mine, I _had_ to finish out the story.  
 _"At that point, Masamune unrolled the parcel he'd brought in. Laying there was my sword, 'Name it what you want boy, I don't care,' he laughed in his gruff way. It an was amazing creation, and perfect for me in every way - an ōdachi made for my hands alone, and to this day no man as been able to wield it as I do. But, there was another piece next to it, smaller and with a bit more curvature in the blade. 'This sword,' he said, 'is for when you finally learn to give that damn. A gift..."  
_ I _had_ to stop and force my lungs to draw in air, hoping the action might sooth the aching in my torso. If I failed to keep staring at that shelf, my voice would falter. He'd never inferred that _this_ part would be so difficult or painful.

I watched Kilara dart around, trying to catch the full depth and pattern of the hamon in the light; she marveled at the materia slots - two sets of paired sockets, one on each side of the hilt. The girl was almost speechless, truly appreciative of the craftsmanship, and either lost on, or ignoring, its implications.  
"Oh...Se..phi...roth...it is such and so much the beautiful..." The emotion in her voice was so...pure. I wanted to grab hold her, to tell her that no sword could ever rival what I think I'd found in her, nor what she'd done for me.  
Maybe I was not so self aware, and only coveted...

 _Compose yourself!  
_ Finally, a helpful inner voice, which also served to remind me how poorly things could go; had I considered how badly she could wound me or my remaining pride?  
This was the last chance, when she was lost to art and craftsmanship, to back out. We could focus on the piece, change the subject, _retreat._

No. Sephiroth, General First-Class, does not retreat from anything.

"He said its name was," I struggled, not just to remember, but to pronounce the unusual group of syllables, "Share-KA-hee? I believe that was how he'd said it." Kilara perked her head up slightly. "Have you heard that word before? I'm afraid I do not know its meaning."  
"It is..." her head bent to one side in concentration before she shook it side to side. "No, it is similar to a word I know - ceirka'i, but it cannot be meaning or referring to these same things, I think. Please, it sounded like the story was not quite ending yet?" Kilara's eyes moved between the weapon and I, never really focusing on either.  
I wanted to prod, to ask more about the phrase, but held back. I believed I'd have plenty of time to ask her later.

 _"Masamune said may things, after telling me the name, but one particular part stuck with more moreso than the others. 'When you finally learn that lesson, it's going to be because there's someone you want to protect. Someone for whom you'd give your life, just to keep them safe another minute. But, boy - Sephiroth, you're not going to be able to do that. You'll know, deep down, that even you don't have the power - not every minute, not every second. I want you to remember that, and to examine deeply that sense of being powerless - it'll be good for you. Do the, then you give them Ceirka'i here, and I think you'll get your chance at to experience the kind of happiness you claim to not believe in.'"_

I had to blink, clench my jaw and breathe - _compose myself_ ; now _I_ couldn't look at _her_ directly.  
I heard Kilara's breathing pattern change, otherwise she did not move or make a sound.

 _Fuck!_

10 years I'd kept that sword hidden, and of course denied the implications of Masamune's words. "Back then, before...now, I gave no purchase to his 'silly' mysticism. I'd considered selling Ceirka'i a number of times, but never could bring myself to get rid of it. I've been justifying that decision, saying that the last sword to be created by one of the world's masters was priceless; it _is_ a real piece of art and history."  
I still could not look, and Kilara still did not speak. The only option was to continue spewing out the truth...I'm not sure I could've stopped it, at that point.  
"The things he said would echo in my head from time to time, during moments of sadness...annoying me as I worked to build my career," I tried to laugh, lightheartedly, but the sound was stiff and strained.

 _But...he_ _ **knew**_ _. How? It has to be...pl-I cannot believe I'm...dammit...please?_

Kilara had been holding a finger over one of the materia slots - not quite touching it and almost afraid to, I believe. It was the perfect chance segue, and to add the rest. "There's a fifth materia slot. It is hidden, though I'm not sure why..." My chest was tight, breathing painful, laboured, and ragged. I thought, maybe, that I might be dying. Dying would have been easier than speaking, I am certain.  
But, still, there was more I had to tell her. "'Keep a wall in there, boy,' he'd told me - 'or don't - but you'll thank me if you do.' Even with some semblance of context, he was a strange old man." I pressed a hidden button on the hilt and there, within pommel itself, concave half-sphere sat empty.

The materia I'd picked up earlier, even before our sparring match, and now retrieved it stealthily from an inside pocket. It was hard to hide the slight tremble when placing the small orb - a fully mastered _barrier_ \- into the compartment. We stood still, staring - myself at Kilara, and she at an empty point between the sword, the floor, and me, for what could have been minutes or hours...I do not know.  
Time skews when every breath and second is excruciating.  
"Whatever you want, in the others," I started, unsteady in my speech and with an unfamiliar flutter in my chest. "I can procure almost any materia, but this one should stay." I placed my hand, so much larger, over hers...guiding it to the sword's grip.

"Seh-it's, but...I couldn't..." Eyes wide, Kilara shook her head, weakly pulling her hand away and to her necklace, "It's too beautiful...n-no, I can't...I am not...I don't..."  
 _No, please no. No. I_ _ **know**_ _this!_ Internally I was begging, pleading to any gods who listened that she'd accept the item. I could sense, somehow, that it was important - to the point accepting me with it could be considered optional, no matter what that might do to me.  
 _This cannot have been an accident. Daggers won't be enough, if they ever find you..._

Kneeling, so I could see her at eye level, I stole Kilara's hands, both of them, and held tightly. Maybe this woke her up, or maybe it _was_ all just random chance.  
Maybe I had to fall a little farther.  
Unable to suppress what must have been a pitiful, shattered look, I gave up on the need for pride. "Please, Kilara. You can. He made that...for you. I want you to have it. Please..." I would die, happily, if only she'd accept. If she didn't...well I did not see myself surviving well much longer anyway.  
"But...it is a thing of priceless..."  
"I mean it - please Kilara!"  
 _Was I pleading?_

"This - Ceirka'i - it was made for you. I saw that earlier today without a doubt. I _knew_ , I knew the moment I caught you in my arms, feeling a need I've never felt...to keep you safe. The practice blade...that was the same, _this_ sword - weight, balance, everything. The way you used it...how naturally you could wield it. I saw..." I stopped, shaking more than slightly, hands kept still on hers by sheer force of will...restraining myself, as I yearned to hold, caress, envelop this woman completely.  
"I saw, even with a mere replica, Kilara - it was, no, you were..."  
 _*breathe*  
_ "So beautiful..."

 _What if she doesn't want you? How could she? You know she knows exactly **what** you are!  
_The questions - accusations - spun around inside my head, tinging every thought with poison. My mind that began reeling back, succumbing to a type of fear I'd neither trained to face, nor ever thought I'd have to...not again and not alone, anyway.  
I harbored no desire to let darkness creep back in, but needed _something_ to replace the hope I'd dared latch onto.  
And never would I say such a thing out loud, wouldn't put that guilt on Kilara's shoulders, but I worried what I might become if she wasn't here to keep me grounded. I also knew that, if I took away that choice via guilt or physical force, I'd be no better than my own former keepers.

The one damned thing I didn't know was what to say or do!

 _\- - - Inhale. Exhale. She hasn't answered yet… - - -_

 _A/N (2): Yeah...so that bit with the smoking lounge and way too much introspection...it is necessary for something I *might* want to do in part 2 (which, ideally, will read more like a mystery than a trashy romance novel). I know there's too much inner monologue, but that seems to be my schtick...so I'm going to keep it._

 _That said, if you've stuck with me so far, I'm pleased to say that I don't think there will be too many more whole scene additions that end up delaying months...  
Or that risk killing the flow/mood of things by too clearly reflecting my own shifts in personality, energy, and general outlook._

 _But_ _ **that**_ _said, work and my real life have been quite the bitchybitch lately, so there will probably still be at most a chapter per month, tops. I got a bit too sucked inside of my own head there for a while, and am believing the plot-ball will be rolling forward with more momentum once we get this and the next chapter out of the way._

 _Appreciated, to those who read this far._


	16. Chapter 16

_-*-_ _ **Adults only here. Seriously. Warning.**_ _Notes proper at the end this time; I don't want to ruin things or colour expectations. -*-_

* * *

 _\- She. Knows. What. You._ _ **Are.** -_

Perhaps I lost my mind days ago, and was left too broken to realize, or perhaps the phantom had left my psyche permanently damaged in some other, subtler sense.  
 _Maybe none of this is happening. This must be the hell that I deserve.  
_ Kilara had been momentarily stunned, but her darting eyes told me that she'd run the moment she felt steady. The girl was terrified. She was, and the situation was far too painfully, glaringly real to be anything but happening.

"Don't," I forced myself to step back, giving her some space. "You don't have to worry about the...about anything I said or may have implied. Kilara, you don't have to accept...me. You could decide to leave right now; I don't want you to, but you could, and I'd still be happier knowing you had the proper tools for protecting yourself. I would. Be happy," the words, more than just the sounds themselves, surprised me. I am not one to speak without thorough calculation, and though I seldom outright lie, I never would have allowed myself such honesty. Especially not when I believed it wouldn't help.

My breathing was erratic, and I could feel the rapid pulse across my temples, especially loud within the stifling room. Sweat began pooling in my gloves, and the dark humor of that previous thought - the need to remove them - it stung; doing so offered nothing to help regulate my temperature. It was so warm, could that explain why my eyes began to...perspire?

Not even I believe the excuse. Not that I didn't want to.  
My head ached, tinnitus rang loudly in my ears; it was impossible think, let alone think clearly.  
 _I do not want her to see me like this...weak...  
_ I couldn't read Kilara's expression, only that it shifted; there was now a hardness in her eyes. She must have reached a decision.  
 _No..please...  
_ I threw everything, every shred of energy remaining, into keeping my composure. 'SOLDIERs do not cry, they do not feel! Not when _anyone_ could be the enemy who betrays us!' Hojo's lectures echoed, invading my thoughts and daring me to claim objection. I might have tried to argue with the memory, but something outside, in the room and in the present, commanded my attention.

Kilara was moving, slowly, and doing something that was not fleeing in disgust or fear. She wasn't leaving, wasn't running away, nor anything else I worried that she might. No, Kilara was stepping _towards_ me, albeit cautiously. I watched her pull something from one of the pouches on her belt, half expecting a dagger in my throat.

But the flash that followed was not the glint of light on steel, and the object was far too small to be a weapon. I hadn't even moved to block.  
Kilara didn't say a word, just stopped in front of the heap into which I'd crumpled, motionless and staring down the item in her hands. Her eyes remained cold, but the tension in her jaw betrayed a struggle to maintain the icy mask.  
At least, I tried to hope that's what it meant.

I watched, confused by every aspect of Kilara's body language.  
 _She hasn't answered, that doesn't mean no, or yes...or no or yes... She hasn't left yet.  
_ Truly not meaning to be coercive, afraid to speak for fear I might, and doubting my sanity would survive outright rejection, I listened. It was all I had left to try. I know how crazy I must have sounded, I did. I'd felt less sane only once before, and even then the girl had stayed.  
But I also knew that I still _needed_ her, somehow. I wanted her, beyond base physical attraction, and in a way that was painful beyond what I thought possible for the mind to conjure. The woman was my own personal goddess, sent to save me, wasn't she? How else to even begin describing what had happened? Or why she'd even bothered to come back, or help, or believe in me.  
 _Or let me almost kill her...or...  
_ I didn't even want to _think_ about what my hands had done, and true to form, she made it so I didn't have to.

Kilara whispered, eyes locked to a spot between us on the ground, "She had the gift..the curse...too, that's why I didn't chase her off. I tell this to myself...heh." I had understood the words, but had no idea what could be the meaning. I could not grasp the relevance, but talking was not fleeing. My head refused to lift, but I could listen - not an impressive feat to most, but that I _could_ was something to grasp onto. Next, I would try to breathe again.

"I thought I could help, but hers was diff-er-ent than mine," her accent thickened once again. "I can see how some things are, some-of-times, but she...she always knew of things to come, things she had no business knowing or how they would work out. Things a little kid should not have had to be thinking always or about." Kilara's voice caught in her throat, continuing so softly that _I_ had to strain to catch the words. They still didn't make much sense.

"I was going to buy one, once. A real weapon, my own proper piece of steel-and-sword," the slightest hint of a smile passed and faded quickly. "Finally I'd saved the money - all of it. But it was something like her birthday anniversary that same time. She said this was something from a dream, and that I _had_ to get it made into something that was real. Said, not just for her, but for us both. Emile - she begged, and how could I not? ...heh... She'd turned - umm - it was ten, we think. An age to celebrate, for ones who came from places like we did. And it _was_ a beautiful thing, the sketch she'd made. This thing. I think...she thought...please-Iamsorry, it is hard to keeping track sometimes..."

"I..." I shut up. I couldn't even be sure Kilara was really speaking _to_ me, though she didn't seem to have lost herself again, at least not like she had before. Not yet, anyway.  
And I had no idea what I was supposed to say, let alone the ability to do so with any eloquence. Whatever was happening, though, I didn't like it - neither the "far-away-ness" nor the idea that I might be the cause.  
It made no sense, but there seemed to be a correlation. Still, there's no chance the girl could've survived this long if her thoughts were constantly pulling elsewhere.

That, and it hurt, somehow, to hear this kind of sadness, though I didn't fully grasp my own feelings or why any of it mattered now. I wasn't permitted to have those often...feelings. And who's to say I even had, or properly recognized them anyway?

 _Emile? That was the child, it did not survive their encounter with the creatures...  
_ Kilara must have been working through an attack of feeling or emotion, I realized. Yet, she was also starting to look better - calmer, in a sense. But that distant, remote look still troubled me. Never had I found the description to be so accurate. And now that my own focus was returning, slowly, again I wished to shake the girl and snap her back into the present! But, that, and probably anything I might do, could make things worse.

 _The thought of her injured, again...by some force I cannot see - fuck! Those bruises had been awful. I'd had no recourse.  
_ It was an interesting take on fear, not that I was afraid **of** anything. Maybe **for,** but certainly not of. And that wasn't going to happen this time, I would find a way to stop it if it did.  
In either case, I found grounding in the analysis. This was good.  
 _What is that other place?_ Could _I see into it somehow? Am I a part of this world you're in, Kilara? Can you hear, or see me? Come back?_

Of course, Kilara did not "hear" I'm sure, but her eyes flicked up for a split second, as if to confirm that she was, indeed, speaking _to_ me. Her eyes weren't as lost or cold as I'd initially presumed; there was an intensity similar to what had drawn me to her in the first place. Kilara was not going to leave or run away. Better, she was still here.  
 _But why?  
_ And still a puzzle.  
I was given nothing but a continuation of her monologue in answer.

"So I had it - the thing Emile dreamed and drew - I had it made into a something she could hold and feel, of course," Kilara forced a laugh, swallowing, "I commissioned for this thing the best artist I could afford with the whole sword-savings, and some extra I had saved just-in-case. It _is_ a beautiful piece..." she sighed.

"This, and then she said it wasn't really _for_ her, but that she'd be happy holding on to borrow, until sometime. I think she knew... _hnngh._.."  
 _That sound - physical pain? Should I try to do something? How does one apply … apply what?  
_ Was I even _capable_ of providing comfort to another? I had no idea how to protect her from ghosts or memories, but felt this pull, an almost need to try.  
Something?

I had not the faintest clue of what to do. How did people train for situations such as this? There was no blood, no wound I could just stitch or spellcast away. Everything I'd worked for - strength, power - it was hollow, seemed meaningless now.  
 _Fine! I admit it, I'm helpless. I do not understand, I don't even know I'm not the cause...just tell me how to help, or stop, or fix… I can't...can I? I don't know how. Would I be capable, even if i did?_

No answers magically surfaced before Kilara took a seat beside me, toppled as I was - still crumpled on the floor and emptied by further realizations.  
It was an embarrassing situation, or would have been if I'd any pride left at that precise moment.

"The story, it is not much interesting against yours, I think, but it is the one I had to offer. And this, this thing is not so priceless, but it is the thing that I would trade, if you are so insisting, and are willing to accept." Subdued, but _here_ , Kilara settled in beside me; we were now eye-level, or very close, due to my position on the floor.  
"Accept? Trade?" Why would she think that necessary? "No, you don't need to give-" The girl's look of desperation mirrored almost exactly what I'd felt.  
 _But why?_

"This is not the need, it is the would. I do not _not_ believe you, but this," she tapped a finger to her head, "thinks, you will see it when you see. If you wish to...for… Well let us start with seeing, yes?"

I examined the pendent in Kilara's outstretched hand: two metallic wings - one dark, almost black, and one white, or maybe something close to gray. They folded over and around each other, the mismatch in both size and material enhanced, rather than detracted from, the overall design. There were small stones, one green with just a hint of blue, embedded in the darker side, and a light purple jewel in the other. Even from a generously kind or desperate artist, this piece would have cost no small amount. The detailing was exquisite, especially for the pendent's size, not to mention the materials.  
 _Tourmaline and amethyst...  
_ Not the most rare or expensive gems on their own, but I saw something priceless. It felt like something _more,_ though I could not tell you how.

 _Do you believe in fate?  
_ A question she had asked me, straining against that evil force and vying to keep my focus. Had this been what she meant?  
 _How could this be anything but_ , I wondered, marveling at the coincidence, or more the implications of the piece's origins.  
My own eyes, unlike most SOLDIER, are a darker hue than the sky blue usually associated with mako, and almost green in most lights. Jade...jaded was the joke, I'd heard, but this was no time to sulk about the past.  
 _This is not jade though. Green tourmaline, yes, and amethyst...not quite purple, but lavender. They match our eyes, but how? Eyes?...eyes...  
_ Kilara was waiting, I like to think, but it doesn't matter. She was there when I finally willed my own vision up, away from the floor. Satisfied, I believe.

"I'm not just giving to you this as only trade, or because I feel obligated or for any debt. You said a kind of promise, and I am holding you to that, Mister FriendSephiroth." Kilara decided to attach the necklace to me, leaning in so close that I could feel the smile in her cheek when it brushed against my shoulder.  
 _Is she the strange one, or am I? Or both of us?_

This gesture was not expected, **not** unwelcome, certainly, but not what I'd expected. The necklace had to have been clasped or tied by now, but Kilara hadn't moved away; I felt her playing lightly in my hair and sighed, content.  
I also felt a tempest just below my chest, raging, rising, churning thoughts..feelings...a stormflood straining against my self control; and felt terrified of what I would do to her if it broke free.  
 _Is she shaking, or am I? Does she know what this is doing to me? Gaia, it's so hard to not...  
_ _I_ n fact, it was impossible to not.

My hands were first to test, tracing the slight curve of her hip while the other meandered up and down her back; every movement fest so natural. When I pulled our bodies closer, Kilara offered no resistance, allowing me to cradle her head, to angle her neck just so. Gaia...her neck - it was _right there!_ But I knew I could not trust myself.  
And her cheek was even closer; it was safe, and so soft and smooth and then she made a little noise and _writhed_ while I traced the contours of her jaw, working toward her lips with my own.  
 _I need to stop. We need to breathe. I need to know - fuck! What if this isn't; what if I'm doing something wrong? None of this feels wrong, but..._

Uncertainty and guilt, all worsened by the sheer force of how badly I wanted _more._ I felt as if my body itself might burst, would rip apart unless I held her closer, and so much more tightly. It wasn't just a desire to touch and feel, but to squeeze, and to crush her body into mine, merging us together into one complete and perfect being!  
 _  
*breathe*_

The idea, the phrasing and imagery my subconscious chose was unsettling, but it was fleeting notion, and quickly replaced by other, much more tangible impressions. My head was swimming, brimming with a carnal creativity, but still thankful for the pause, forced by our collective need of oxygen. Kilara's heart was racing; I had her now, close enough to feel the pulse echoing deep within her chest. But it was her eyes, always it would seem, that drew my focus home: pupils so dilated by need and tension they were almost fully rounded.  
That, and _fuck,_ she's so, unbelievably soft, and kept fondling my hair. It all did these _things_ to me. Things I didn't want to stop.  
And I know I should've asked or said...something. But I didn't.

No, I seized Kilara's head and shoved my tongue deep into her mouth, sparsely coherent words tumbling out between moans - or, perhaps some manlier version of the sound, all the while praying I wouldn't move too fast, grip too tightly...wouldn't break her into pieces with my terrible, deadly strength.  
"Fuck, I..." I know. I hadn't forgotten details that I'd learned, or deduced, or even guessed about the girl.  
But...

The important thing is that I _would_ have stopped, if she'd given _any_ indication that I should. Kilara's legs wrapping themselves around my waist didn't seem, to me, anything like a sign to stop. And her hips - her whole body - moved with this excruciating, slow, achingly fantastic rhythm against what had become a very, incredibly sensitive region of my own.  
"I want this..."  
Human or not, on some level, I _am_ only a man.

Somehow, admitting it was freeing. I _could_ reign myself in, let _her_ decide what 'this' would mean, or try to. But not here, not on this floor when better options were mere steps away. I could figure out a plan, one where I - maybe - wouldn't damage Kilara further or irreparably. That's the last thing, beyond the last thing I could ever wish.  
And there was so, so much more I wanted now.

That plan could wait. I didn't want to lose _this_ , any of it: the path from Kilara's mouth, down to her neck, each line sharp and with its own sweet taste. Why hadn't I ever felt such intensity before?

I'd gone out, I'd picked up women…  
I wasn't lacking in experience.

It didn't matter - why was I even thinking of other.. _._ of _anything_ else _!_?  
 _No.  
_ Pushing them away was easier, they were just normal memories and thoughts and didn't try to invade my entire being.  
 _Back then you didn't know, you didn't remember what-_ _ **No.  
**_ This was not a test. The tests were gone, over. And I'm fucking thrilled he'd failed at making more, or at whatever the point had been.  
And there would be no way in all of Gaia or the universe that I'd let that bastard poison this!

Maybe Kilara agreed, or maybe it was coincidence, but she chose the perfect time to recapture my attention.  
Overrode all but the most basic functions of my brain might be a better way to phrase what happened next.

"FUC-NOOH ohfuck, K-!" Every muscle, every nerve, every. thing. stopped. It took e _verything_ I had to stave off what was coming. Or maybe I didn't.  
It had been a very long time. But, I couldn't let things end there, not on that note, not yet.  
In either case, the pace would need to change.

"Mmm, do you know" my voice was thick, lusty - of course I used it to it's full advantage, nipping here and there with minute doses of what she'd just done to me. My weakness goes both ways. "What that does to me, Kilara?" Just to punctuate the point, I put one arm around her hips, lifting and moving us towards my bedroom. "Please," I needed her to look at me, to see how difficult was to hold back so much _want_.

Kilara stared straight into my eyes, "You don't need to be holding back so much."  
How was I supposed to...?  
Did that mean...?  
Fuck!

"This is mine now." Her neck _was_ mine, starting with that diamond just between her collarbones; this time I allowed myself some freedom. I had to, this game was getting dangerous; I had to show her. I couldn't trust myself.  
I had to hold back. I am tall, strong even for a SOLDIER, and she was so petite. I feared I would break something with the force of my passion, even though she was strong, wasn't brittle in any sense.

* * *

— _Self control is much more fragile —_

I'd managed to remove it all one-handed, save my pants, between kicking closed the door and laying Kilara on the bed as gently as my current state allowed. This felt so _right,_ but guilt lurked behind the feeling, threatening. The memory of my hands on her neck..the blood..she hadn't screamed, hadn't fought then either.

"I...can stop." _Just let me kiss you one time...  
_ "If you don't want..." _Here, and here...  
_ "Please you _have_ to tell me..." I would stop, I _could_ , but only if she told me to. Maybe I couldn't, but promised I would if she'd just say it; how could she see me as...as anything but what those visions, and the things that happened, proved I was?

Kilara ran her hands roughly through my hair, wrapping her fingers in the overlong strands...pulling me down, closer. "Se-fea-rothe, I do not wish to stop."

Thank Gaia for button-up shirts!. I forced myself, savouring the agony, to go slowly, to cherish every moment, fearing something would come to take it away. Each button undone revealed a little rectangle of beautiful, pale, almost otherworldly flesh, and Kilara writhed, moaning softly as I graced each new shape with soft attentive lips. I'd worked my way down, taking the bra she didn't really need along the way.  
"Wait, wedon'tneed-" Kilara spoke as quickly as her arms hugged around her waist, covering what I'd just exposed. Her body moved reflexively, as if to curl into a ball.

I'd known they were there, the scars. I'd seen them when healing her...but when I saw them _all_...again.  
"I'm sorry..." When I heard the fear in her apology - an apology that wasn't hers to give - everything went red!  
 _I will fucking skin him alive! Kill him so fucking slowly..._

I knew the ploy - the incisions made with surgical precision, some with 'scientific' purpose, some for no reason but sickness of a demented, deranged mind. All were easily fixed, sans scarring, with simple, and I knew plentiful to him, materia. I could hear he sneering lines, "Maybe next time you'll cooperate, and we won't have to leave you this reminder. I'm making you look this way to make you stronger; you don't need the distraction of others. They'll fear you, and with good reason, my perfect killer. This..this will be a warning flag, maybe this time enough to keep those dumb broads away." The speech to Kilara could only have been worse, though not much different.

I shifted, lying on my side beside her, "It's not your fault." Testing, I placed a hand over hers and tried to move them; the resistance to my pull was weak, but enough that I didn't want to push her farther. I could feel Kilara's body trembling, and she kept her head turned away. I should've stopped.  
But, I'd asked...but...  
And then I'd felt so angry!

"Are you afraid," I asked, "of me? I didn't mean to-"  
Kilara finally turned, her hands wrapping the one I'd left in place. "No, not afraid of you. Afraid for you see and...and...they're repulsive. I'm not - I'm- " The words wouldn't come to her, but they didn't need to. She was wrong. How dare, on top of everything else, how dare he make her think anything like that could be her fault!  
"You're beautiful," I finished simply, not wanting to betray how dark my thoughts had almost grown or stayed.

She softened, allowing my embrace, my kisses, and showings of sincerity, all the while combing through hair. This relaxed us both, and I shelved my anger, praying for the chance to enact vengeance - but another day. This would not be tainted!

Then it was as if we'd never stopped.  
Yes, I was delighted restart my journey down her curves, though perhaps a little faster this time. I was enjoying holding back, reveling, rejoicing slowly in every new sensation, but still taking my time of course. I'm thankful that I took my time, even as I reached the buttons on Kilara's trousers, "Is this okay?"  
"I- yes."

 _She paused, why? Should I-  
_ "You can tell me to stop. I will."  
 _I will try...  
_ I hadn't yet, but put my face to hers - my eyes on hers - and watched, sliding a hand beneath the damp cloth that tried in vain to block my way.  
"Sephi," Kilara inhaled my name, or a part, the rest lost into to most luring, siren's song of moans that left not room for doubt. Whatever I had feared was wrong, had to have been wrong. Worry, uncertainty - it all melted even further away than I thought possible.

I was touching her in earnest now, battling against myself to hang onto some thread of control, but losing ground each time Kilara's body arced, enraptured. Closer. Each time she pulled my face to hers, fingernails just sharp enough to tread the line between pleasure and exquisite pain.  
 _Everything_ melted away; everything but us.

I felt alive, amazed by the reactions one could coerce with just a hand. Eventually a mouth.  
Words devolved to sounds, sounds gave way to breathless pants; I abandoned any thoughts of stopping. I could have this. She was mine.  
But. But I couldn't move us forward.  
Kilara's tension was apparent, squeezing, wrapped around my digits. She was so warm, so soft. So perfect. So innocent.

"I don't want to hurt you," Her neck was sweet. I could feel her pulse, her _life,_ thrumming just below the surface, but Kilara's lips were even sweeter - stolen while tensions of my own urged _deeper_ and brought them to a gasp.  
My remaining clothes had disappeared. We'd shifted so that I held Kilara in one arm, using the other to support my weight above.

"If we," my body nestled between her legs, waiting, testing - trying so hard to not _take_. Her body shivered at my whispers, "if you're not relaxed, I could..."  
 _I could hurt you. I don't wan to.  
_ I didn't want to open my eyes, to see disgust or fear on that ethereal, lovely face. This meant I couldn't see the look that wasn't those, that drew her hands down along my sides. I could only guess what made Kilara wrap herself around me, inviting.  
"If slow," she panted, seeking to draw me into another kiss, "you won't. I want."  
 _Want_ \- that word was all I needed.

 _Slow.  
_ Slowly the resistance faded. We began to fall into a rhythm.  
 _Slow.  
_ I had to focus on my breathing - everything felt heightened; it was difficult to concentrate. Even still, the pleasure, the feelings, were almost overwhelming.  
 _Slowly.  
_ Deepened kisses led to deepened movements, then greater struggles. So close, but was I closer? I wanted to _feel_ her at that moment.  
 _Faster now, not too much.  
_ "Se-a-ah! I can't," Kilara struggled to form words with what air short, rapid breaths allowed, "is so. so much. sensation!"  
 _More. Faster.  
_ Kilara teetered on the edge, "You can," I focused on our bodies - on hers. "It's okay..."  
"I can't-can-OH, fu- .imi ci'irpa'i!" She plunged over the edge, howling in that language I didn't understand.  
Or maybe not, it was hard to tell syllables apart; the squeezing, holding grip of her body wrapped and tangled around my own carried me down with her.  
"Kil-OH-I-fuckIlo.."

Electricity and chills flowed up and down our bodies as they worked, synchronized as one. My last coherent thought was _pivot_ , rolling so that Kilara collapsed, exhausted, on my chest. I didn't want to let her go just yet, not when I felt so...complete again. Not with that missing piece of something no longer acting as a vacuum deep inside of me.  
And, of course, I also want to squash her.

What I did want...  
There were many things I wanted to say, but "Stay with me." - that was the only one I managed. It was enough.  
I might have wanted to say "I need you" or "you complete me, in a literal sense" or maybe even "I would die if you left now" - but those words all sound cheap and overused. One could hear them ten times a night at any movie theater, or in any book.  
As for the other ones...

\- _What if I can't...correctly? -_

* * *

 _A/N: Finally, right? This one I'm glad I re-wrote, I truly am. It's still a bit self-indulgent, but isn't that the point? I think I can shoot for "quarterly" and maybe stick to that, but (as always) there are no promises...for all three to five of y'all. Heh._

 _She had been a virgin, at least as far as anyone could tell, initially. I wanted to make that less tentative in the proper story though._

 _Beyond that, just working to make it read a a bit less like something trashy in the bargain bin. A little trashy's still okay, though.  
That shit's difficult to write._


End file.
